A Magical Life
by Cassie's Bedlam
Summary: She wasn't anyone's hero, wasn't anyone's choice to be a hero, but she was here, alive, and her sister is stupidly brave and loyal. She may not be a hero, but she was a sister, she was a Black, and like hell was she going to let Dora get herself killed. New SI series, first in the series.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer, I only own the OCs and un-cannon events.**

* * *

It is only years later, when the dust has settled and the fear lessened with the final death of the Monster that plagued them for so long—because he couldn't be a man, not after what he had done, not after what he had become—and she finally has time to simply breathe without any panic rising in her chest—what if she failed? What if they died? She wanted to run away but she couldn't leave them! —that she allows herself to stop and look back at The Before, The Previous, the Life she had only disjointed memories of that warned her and told her what would befall onto her family if she failed.

She didn't know why she was chosen, doubted she would ever know, but for some reason someone—something—had chosen her for whatever reason they had.

She couldn't have been anyone first choice, she wasn't even _her_ _own_ first choice, and she especially wouldn't have chosen someone like her, the her from before and perhaps even the her from the now.

She wasn't anyone's story-book heroine, not by a long shot.

She had never been brave, she was coward and knew it. She wasn't generous, kindness wasn't something she felt came easily to her, and she just, well, she just didn't care about people, about strangers and their suffering.

She could never, would never, be a hero that stood up for strangers, that did all they could for the sake of the innocent—she was too selfish for that.

She wasn't naturally intelligent in her opinion, she couldn't come up with unbelievable plans that worked, and her dyslexia made things harder, made her work for each scrap of knowledge that she attempted to understand in her own way.

She did not surround herself with people, she didn't understand people at times, and she didn't want to be around lots of people most of time.

She wasn't the heroine, she wasn't the hero, she wasn't the warrior or soldier.

She was just her, weak and cowardly little her, and yet she had been chosen, and she liked to think that she had done the best with what was handed to her, what was thrown in her way, though she knew it was likely she was only kidding herself.

* * *

Andromeda Black was born the second daughter of Cygnus Black III and his wife, Druella Black nee Rosier, the younger sister of bold and fierce but fragile Bellatrix and the older sister to perfectly poised and strong Narcissa.

She was a disappointment to her father for being born another daughter instead of a son, a disappointment that would sour her parents' relationship enough it would be three years before Narcissa would be born.

However, that didn't stop her father from smugly showing her and Bellatrix off at family gatherings as he was the first of his generation to produce another generation of the House of Black—something that didn't endear them to their aunt, Walburga Black.

Andromeda's earliest memories of her aunt was of her dark scornful eyes focused on the Black sisters, of sneers that twisted her painted lips when one of their older relatives congratulated Cygnus on having such beautiful and smart daughters, and of the darkly gleeful smirk when she would glance at Narcissa with her ashy blonde hair and blue eyes—Rosier looks instead of Black—whose birth was perhaps the biggest disappointment to their father—not only was she another daughter, but she had inherited both the Rosier looks and magic instead of the Black's looks and magic.

Aunt Walburga was particularly contemptuous of Bellatrix, who from the virtue of being born the first of their generation, was considered the Heiress Black until Orion sired his own children—Walburga's children—to take their rightful title as great-grandchildren of Sirius Black II, the previous Lord Black before Lord Arcturus, his son.

Though as the years passed and Aunt Walburga's womb didn't quicken with a child, it seemed more doubtful that Sirius Black II's bloodline would continue to lead the family (something that turned Aunt Walburga bitter and cruel, according to Uncle Alphard, who would one-day remark that his elder sister hadn't always been such a bitch)—something that made Father smug and made Grandfather Pollux focus all his attention on Bellatrix, something that would lead to the downfall of her older sister.

Despite the fact there was less than a year between Bella and Andi, they had grown up rather apart as Andi was kept under the care of Mother—thus under her control for Andi's education and such—Bella was under the care of Father, and to a lesser degree, Grandfather, and subjected to a rigid and demanding schedule that they decided was fitting for the Heiress Black that filled almost all of her time—a schedule that Andi would later learn was more demanding than what the Blacks normally demanded of their Heir.

And when they did spend time together, Andi always felt that Bella was fragile in a way she couldn't explain in words and would simply pull Bella down to rest with her so her sister, her fragile elder sister, could have some true peace away from the demands of tutors, Father and Grandfather.

(It's those memories, of Bella laying her curly dark head on Andi's lap, of the way her dark eyes would flutter shut while her lips continued to mouth her previous lesson to herself, that made it impossible for Andi to think about raising a wand against her sister.

How could she harm her sister when whenever she looked at her, she saw the child that curled up around her for a few precious moments of peaceful rest?

It was the curse of loving Bella, hating the monster she had been turned into but loving who she used to be.)

Things changed the same year that Cissy turned four, something that started the cracks in Bella and her sanity, and it was Aunt Walburga's triumph.

On November the third, in the year nineteen-sixty-seven, Sirius Orion Black III was born to a triumphant Walburga Black and a quietly pleased Orion Black—much to the disbelieving anger of Father—after twelve years of a childless marriage.

During the Winter Solstice, Sirius Black III was officially made the Heir of House Black which brought Walburga under the good graces of Grandfather and made him bestow his pride upon the new-born heir to Bella's increasing bewilderment, and let Aunt Walburga bask under the attention of relatives that had scorned her only a year ago—only Uncle Alphard and Great-Aunt Cassi treated her the same as before, not scornful but the same almost fond indifference that said they didn't care if Walburga ever had a child or not, Uncle Alphard and Aunt Cassi were also the only ones that didn't suddenly stop giving the affection freely to the Black sisters.

Her father, Cygnus, stewed in his rage, his disbelief, during that Solstice before exploding at Mother, blaming her for not giving him any sons—ignoring the fact even if he had a son, Sirius would have still been given the heirship because of his direct blood-connection to Lord Sirius II and Lord Arcturus—something that finally soured and doomed the romantic relationship between her parents.

(It was hard not to blame Sirius as his birth started the downfall of her little family, but she couldn't really blame him. Not when he was an innocent baby and not when he was older and calling her 'Andi' whenever he saw her and hugged her with such happiness—he was still family after all, and family was everything in the end, something that Aunt Cassi taught her.)

Bella, poor Bella, was confused and hurt by the sudden turn in their family, hurt by the lack of attention both Father and Grandfather paid her, the distance and lack of pride of her tutors, and the sudden gushing of Sirius, a baby who did nothing in her opinion.

Was it any wonder that Bella would attempt to regain that attention, that pride, in any way she could think of? She threw herself into her studies, more fiercely than ever before, and did her best to prove herself, to prove to everyone that she was better than Sirius, would always be better than him, and that she was worth attention and pride.

It of course all came to a head the summer before Bella's first year of Hogwarts, when Bella stole a family Grimoire and attempted to delve into magic much too powerful for her immature body and magic.

Family Magic, magic that set apart muggle-borns and those of wizarding blood, wasn't something one threw around without a care, it's not magic for the faint of heart and it was always more powerful than the magic taught at Hogwarts as it was connected to the very blood of the caster.

Family Magic was dangerous and deadly, something that had to be taught carefully, especially the Black Family Magic.

The Blacks had been around since before the time of the Romans, had been one of the first families to settle in England—only the Bones, Potters and Longbottoms beat them and they had ties to the Celts—and that meant their Family Magic more powerful than most.

Family Magic connected them, empowered them, tied them as a single family with common looks. Black Family Magic had been forged through battle and blood, it was the sweet taste of victory on your tongue, the sight of your enemies' broken forms, it's the taste of coppery blood and the thrill of battle in your blood, it's the pounding of your heart as your senses sing and you attack and defend and attack again.

It was not kind magic, it was not healing magic, it was magic for doing battle and dealing death, it was magic that children should never wield without an experienced user ready and waiting in case.

But Bella hadn't cared, had only thought about proving herself better, and like Icarus, she brought her own downfall and fell, fell in a way that no Black had done for over four hundred years.

Andromeda would always remember the sight of her sister, her beloved and misguided sister, shaking and shuddering on the floor as blood poured from her ears, eyes, nose and mouth as the magic took it's back-lash, it's price against the importune child that attempted to tame its most powerful spells, against her body and her mind.

Her poor sister was never the same after that, could never be the same when Father wasn't there to curb the after-effects, he wasn't there to heal the festering wounds left on her mind, he wasn't there as Mother and a Healer attempted to heal Bella as the Black Magic punished her foolish actions and could only treat her and not cure her.

That was the day that started Bella on her dark path, it was the day that Father became Cygnus, that was the day that sparked an ember of rebellion in her heart.

An ember that made it so much easier to look into his cheerful brown eyes, see his beaming smile, and say yes, to take his tanned rough hand in her own pale and soft one. Make it easier to pack her things with Bella seduced by Legacies and now a loyal follower to Voldemort, with Cissy's marriage to Lucius Malfoy all but done, and Cygnus began to speak of her own marriage when Andi had already chosen her husband, she had chosen Ted when she accepted his hand in their fifth year and she wasn't going to forsake him for Cygnus.

Sue and Joseph Tonks accepted her into their home easily, if a bit sadly, and Andromeda withstood the Howlers that Cygnus, Aunt Walburga, Grandfather and a short one from Mother sent in the Tonks' living room with a strong cup of tea held in her hands and her head held high.

Aunt Cassi would show up the next day with her long-time lover, Clementine, by her side to give Andi a new golden key for a new vault in Gringotts and options for Andi's future now that she had finished Hogwarts and left the Family for love—something Cassi understood as she had been willing to do the same for Clementine, thankfully her father had died before Cassi returned from war with her petite French lover.

("A Hufflepuff? Really, Andi? A Hufflepuff?" Cassi's voice had been high in disbelief making Aunt Clementine roll her pretty blue eyes.

"We are just happy that you are happy," Clementine told her with a warm hug that almost made Andi want to cry.)

It was Aunt Cassi that pointed Andromeda in the direction of her brother, Marius, who had been disowned as a Squib when he was eleven.

Something that Andi was thankful for as she had been worrying about what to do after Hogwarts, Ted had it easy as he had always known he wanted to be a Healer, but Andi hadn't known what to do though she had several examples to follow when it came to her extended family.

Great-Grandmother Violetta Black nee Bulstrode—a towering and imposing woman, she was the woman that Andi inherited her height from, a height that all those of Violetta's blood had inherited—had been a dueller in her younger days until Great-Grandfather made her stop, believing it had been her duelling that caused Marius to be born a Squib.

Grandmother Irma Black nee Crabbe—a petite woman with curly dark hair, Andi and Bella had inherited her curls—had been a dab hand with charms, often charming various objects to sell or gift to the family—Aunt Walburga had asked her mother for a charmed music-box to put Sirius asleep, Andi remembered, when the then toddler heir was being fussy.

Aunt Callidora Longbottom nee Black, Aunt Cassi's cousin and best friend, had been an auror before the birth of her daughter, Augusta, and never returned after the birth of her son, Julius.

Augusta had grown up into a strong woman, alumni of Gryffindor, and married her fourth-cousin Milton Longbottom to bring the two branches back into one. Augusta took control of the family while Milton pottered around with his plants, her son, Frank, was an auror like his grandmother and so was his wife, Alice.

Being an Auror wasn't in her future, Andi knew, as there would be a high chance that she would have to face Bella and she couldn't do that.

Cedrella Weasley nee Black, Callidora's disowned sister, ran her own owl-order potion business with her daughters-in-law—Cedrella had five sons, four of whom had married and started their own families. It was a Weasley family business that Andi didn't feel comfortable to intrude on.

Charis Crouch nee Black, their younger sister, had died and her son, Barty, was the current head of the DMLE—Department of Magical Law Enforcement—of Ministry and her daughter, Lysandra, restored books and translated books for a living.

Aunt Cassi was a Curse-Breaker and Ward-Mistress as well as being a veteran of the war against Grindelwald. Andi had no wish to end up like Aunt Cassi, beautiful despite her scars, and didn't have the passion that she did or Uncle Orion had for wards.

Uncle Alphard was a traveller as far as Andi could tell, he travelled around the world and explored places that peaked his interest.

Marius—Uncle Marius, she supposed—on the other hand ran his own importing and exporting business, something he began after the WW2, and ran to this day with his son, Alexander, in both the muggle and magical worlds.

Aunt Cassi had assured Andi that he would hire her, and that she would find a place in the company.

* * *

Marius Black reminded her more of her Aunt Cassi than of her Grandfather, something that relieved her.

His dark hair was cut short, allowing one to see the hearing-aid in his left ear, and his dark eyes were firm but kind, surrounded by crow's feet. His skin was tanned—much like Aunt Cassi's—that told Andromeda that her Great-Uncle spent a fair amount the time under the sun, his hands were rough and his handshake was firm. Overall Andromeda decided she liked him and her first conversation with him cemented that.

("So," he began as he gestured for Andromeda to take a seat across from him. "You're Pollux's granddaughter."

"I doubt Grandfather will claim me such anymore," Andromeda said with an almost bitter tilt of her lips.

"No, he won't," Marius agreed easily. "Not the most tolerant bastard, but unfortunately, he is still family—despite what he likes to think," he regarded her for a long moment. "You can have a job here.")

Marius was married to a muggle ex-nurse, Vivian, who had tended to him during the war— "Cassi has always claimed that it's because of her that we met," Marius had told her, "and unfortunately, she's right. Her talisman protected me when most of the other men with me died though I still got knocked around enough to end up under Viv's care."—and had three children—Victoria, Alexander and Gloria, all three squibs like their father.

Alexander worked with Marius at Black Imports though he spent part of the year in Japan where they had opened another branch of Black Imports, a branch he was mostly in charge of.

Alexander had married a Japanese witch, Ayame Hamasaki, to secure that branch and had two children, Akira and Hanako who had inherited their mother's magical abilities instead of being a squib like their father.

Akira Black was the year behind Cissy, he had been Sorted into Hufflepuff which meant that Ted knew more about her new cousin that Andi did, and was best friends with his cousin, Jacob 'Junior' Kowalski, who was in the same year and House as Akira.

Junior was the son of Gloria and her wizard husband, Newton Jacob 'Jake' Kowalski, and their only son and the eldest of three children.

Jake Kowalski was a half-blood, son of muggle and a witch that moved from America so they could marry, and was the second son that ran their late-father's bakery here in Britain—where Gloria also worked and where they met each other—while his older brother lived in America and ran their father's original bakery there.

(Their mother, Queenie Kowalski, moved between America and England regularly though her primary home was in Dorset with her sister, Tina, and her brother-in-law, Newt Scamander. The Newton Scamander! Andromeda almost wanted to ask if Gloria could get her old textbook signed by him, but restrained herself.)

Victoria, Marius' eldest, was a doctor and married another doctor, a muggle Benjamin Adair, and had one child, a daughter called Beatrix, and another child on the way—Beatrix was a squib and it was likely her sibling would be as well, they would be Marius' only squib grandchildren.

Marius had told her all this as he gave her a tour of his business—two large warehouses, one for muggle goods and the other for magical goods (both warded and expanded by Cassi originally and now maintained by the number of muggle-born and half-bloods that Marius employed), a main office building (that had a basement office for checking over magical goods that they were importing and exporting as they didn't deal with cursed items), and of course the docks that held their ships (Aries, Mars and Neptune being the ships that were docked).

His cane had thumped the ground heavily as he admitted he wasn't sure what to do with her and told her that for the first few months she would be rotating between different jobs until they found one that fit her though she wouldn't be any time on the ships as Marius didn't think she was sailor material—Andromeda was thankful for that because she wasn't keen on the ships in the first place.

Andromeda knew the only reason Marius had even hired her was because of Cassi and the fact that Andromeda was family. It hurt her pride that she wasn't being hired for her own merits and she resolved that she would work hard and prove to him that he hadn't made a mistake hiring her.

While Andromeda had been sorting things out with Marius, Ted had started his internship at St Mungos—he was one step closer to being a true Healer—and the rest of the world kept moving.

Bella ended up marrying Rodolphus Lestrange, one of the Legacies that had seduced Bella for their Dark Lord, and making her new House infamous with her actions as a Death Eater—Andromeda had come to dread the Daily Prophet as Death Eater actions was reported more and more.

Aunt Dorea lost both her husband, Charlus Potter, and son, Leo Potter, to dragon pox—the Potters' had always had a weakness to that pox despite their attempts to combat all strains of the virus—and her daughter-in-law, Arielle Potter, had taken both Dorea and her daughter, Colette, back to France with her— "It's probably for the best," Aunt Cassi sighed, "Dory is too grief-stricken to stay in that house."

In September of that year, Sirius went to Hogwarts and was Sorted into Gryffindor—Andi could clearly imagine Aunt Walburga's reaction to that, and worried about Sirius as Orion was no longer there to keep Walburga in check—and Andromeda made sure to send him a letter of congratulations and a Gryffindor scarf from Madam Malkin's.

Sirius began to regularly exchange letters with her, telling her hesitantly in the beginning and more eagerly as time went on and Andromeda expressed a genuine interest.

It was through this letters that Andi got to know Sirius' friends; there was arrogant and spoiled James Potter— "He is a bit of a prat," Sirius admitted, "but a good friend." —and then bookish and quiet Remus Lupin— "His mother keeps getting ill," Sirius told her, "she's a muggle so she can't take potions and Remus goes to tend to her monthly."—and then there was shy and somewhat meek Peter Pettigrew— "He really admires James," Sirius wrote, "which only makes James more of a prat."

She learned of sourly dour Severus Snape, their biggest rival— "Malfoy's already got his claws in him, we both know what that means for his future."—and of fierce and fiercely brilliant Lily Evans— "James says he going to marry her one day," Sirius told her, "Evans told him it would a cold day in hell before she married an arrogant toe-rag like him."—and finally of calm and patient Kingsley Shacklebolt, their dorm mate— "It's like nothing rattles him, it's weird," was Sirius opinion after detailing all the ways he and the others had attempted to break his calm that week and failed.

* * *

December brought the birth of Victor Adair, who indeed turned out to be a squib like his sister, and a family gathering of the disowned Blacks with the addition of the Tonks—Sue and Joseph—and Aunt Cassi— "I have better things to do then spend Christmas listing to Wally wail," Cassi had told Andromeda shortly when she had wondered out-loud why her Aunt was spending Christmas with them and not the other side of the family like she had in the past, "and at least I can spent the whole holiday with Clem here," she added with a smile to her strawberry-blonde lover.

It was the first time that Andromeda met the rest of Marius' family outside of Alexander.

Gloria Kowalski nee Black was rather petite—considering her Grandmother had been Violetta Black nee Bulstrode as most of her line had inherited Violetta's rather towering height—and plump woman that work her dark hair in a thick and messy plait while she wore a cheerful smile when she hugged them and welcomed them to the family, pushing a plate of chocolate cake in their hands before she bustled off to fuss over her eldest.

Junior—who had definitely inherited Violetta Black nee Bulstrode's height—took the fuss with good humour as his youngest sister, Kristina, hung from his back with her legs lock around his middle, and his other sister, Cynthia, watched with amusement from where she was sitting with her father, a dark blonde and thickset man.

Junior, Cynthia and Katrina all shared the Black dark eyes and dark hair with their mother, though Junior and Katrina were the only two of the three Kowalski children to inherit Violetta Black's height and Junior was the only one to inherit their father's thickset frame. All three was pleasantly plump, something Andromeda put down to both Jake and Gloria's cooking and baking—not that Andromeda faulted them, she could happily gain a few pounds eating Gloria's chocolate cake—without being overweight and Andi was pretty sure most of Junior's bulk was more from muscle—he played Beater for Hufflepuff—than actual fat.

Victoria Adair nee Black kept her dark hair short and inherited her mother's blue eyes, she was a tall and slender woman that cradled her son close as she sat on the sofa and kept a close eye on her three-year-old daughter, who sat by her mother's feet and flicked through her thin book—a book which had more pictures than writing—while her husband, Benjamin, who was just as slender as his wife and had light brown hair, drew Ted into a discussion of magical healing verses muggle healing.

Vivian Black, her hair more grey than golden blonde of her youth, had drawn Sue into their own discussion, her heavily grey blonde head was bend close to Sus' light brunette head while Joseph sat with Aunt Cassi and Uncle Marius, his blonde hair standing out against Cassi and Marius' dark locks, the three of them having tumblers in their hands as they talked.

Akira Black was as slender as his petite mother and as tall as his towering father which made him look almost too thin—something Gloria obviously thought as she kept a sharp eye on his plate and kept filling it up which only made Akira sigh and smile at his aunt before he ate more with fondly resigned look on his slender face as Aunt Clementine asked about his studies.

His sister, Hanako who took after their mother in her looks, sat near where her parents stood while reading a book. Ayame, petite and beautiful, stood beside her husband with one slender hand hooked around his elbow while Alexander politely inquired how Andi was settling in at Black Imports—in looks, Alexander looked the most like his father though his eyes were a blue hazel that his daughter shared with him.

It was far from the formal Christmases of her childhood, they were crowded into Marius and Vivian's only slightly expanded living room which made the room very warm, the tree wasn't overly decorated in ornaments that had been in the family for centuries and most of the actual decorations seemed to be made by creative little hands of children.

It was one of the best Christmases that Andi had ever had, only dampened by the returned gifts and cards she had sent Cissy and Mother but she had been expecting that really.

* * *

It was that summer that Andromeda and Ted finally married.

Sirius had been spirited to the ceremony by a grinning Alphard Black only to be caught in a hug by Gloria Kowalski to Sirius' bewilderment as she clucked her tongue at his skinny frame— "You're much too thin!" Gloria exclaimed as she leaned back slightly to take a good look at Sirius, "lucky me and Jake prepared lots of food, right honey?" she turned a beaming smile on to her husband who simply welcomed Sirius to the family as Uncle Alphard laughed at Sirius' face.

Beatrix Adair was the flower-girl, the three-year-old had gripped her basket tightly and had carefully threw the petals as she walked down the aisle making Victoria hide a smile in Victor's thickly growing hair as her son cuddled into her and Benjamin carefully take pictures of Beatrix—" Look at that cute little frown on her face," Vivian cooed to Marius as Beatrix passed.

Hanako, Cynthia and Kristina agreed to be bridesmaids though Kristina had grumbled about being in a dress—the first dress that Andi had ever seen her young cousin in, "and the last," Kristina swore as Gloria fussed with Kristina's short hair when they were getting ready.

Edgar Bones stood as Ted's best-man, smiling and keeping a close eye on where his pregnant wife, Julia, sat near Joseph and Sus making the witch roll her eyes as she fanned herself.

She would always look back on that day fondly, it would also be the photos of that time that would firm her resolve—there was no way Sirius, who looked so happy surrounded by family, could ever betray family and James Potter was family.

* * *

That September, Hanako and Cynthia both joined their brothers at Hogwarts and were promptly Sorted into Ravenclaw together.

July would bring the graduation of Narcissa, Akira and Junior. Narcissa immediately married Lucius Malfoy, Akira decided to become an Auror and Junior opened his own branch of Kowalski's bakery in Diagon Alley—making Gloria worry about it being attacked by Death Eaters, only for it to be hers and Jake's bakery that was targeted and Jake was killed as he was buying time for both Gloria and Kristina to escape.

(Andromeda could remember the horror she felt when she opened to the door to a sobbing and bloody Gloria with a wide-eyed and trembling Kristina clasped tightly to her side.

It had been Akira that had to hold his larger cousins back from going off on a hunt for the Death Eaters that killed his father, it had been Andi's kitchen that Gloria took over to work through her grief, it had been Cassi that Kristina had turned to and asked to teach her how to duel and it had been Queenie Kowalski that had got Junior to reopen his bakery several months later.)

The next year would bring the birth of Nymphadora Andromeda Tonks, who shocked her mother into a fit of giggles when she turned her baby-fine hair a violent yellow colour almost as soon as Nymphadora was placed in Andi's arms.

("Polly will have a fit when he hears about this," Marius commented when he met his newest 'niece' who had promptly turned her hair the same shade deep red of his shirt.

"I know," Cassi had replied gleefully as she stroked the deep red baby-fine locks.)

Nymphadora's birth was a brief source of joy before the war got worse and the newspapers reported darker and darker news.

("Feels almost like the 40s, doesn't it?" Clementine would comment mildly to Cassi as they weaved tight Wards over their families' homes.

"Bah," Cassi would grimace. "If only we could fight like it was the 40s, at least with Grindelwald we were allowed to fight back.")

Sue and Joseph would move into their house—a wedding gift from Aunt Cassi and Uncle Alphard—when Death Eaters attacked too close to where the elder Tonks coupled lived for anyone's comfort and would spent their early retirement doting on Nymphadora as they tried to ignore the building tension in their more magically aware and inclined family members.

Gloria began to make rounds around the family with her baked goods—always starting and finishing at the Tonks house as she disliked cooking in the kitchen she used to share with Jake—with Kristina clasped close to her side so she could reassure herself that the family was safe as well as making sure they were well-fed while Junior quietly began looking for another home for his mother and younger sister.

Aunts Cassi and Clementine made protection talismans for the whole family to wear, Aunt Cassi sternly warning them not to remove them, and Ted grew thinner and his blue eyes were more haunted each time he returned home as attacks became more frequent and deadlier.

Ayame had asked Alexander if they should depart for Japan, to stay there until the War was over and even suggested that Hanako could change schools, but Alexander grimly refused, he would not run or leave his family in danger.

Ayame's fears only heightened when Akira ended up in St Mungos after a raid, he could leave within a couple of days but had a curse-scar cutting through his left eye, up his forehead and down his cheek just missing his lips that would never fade.

It was that attack that made Alexander put his foot down and demand that Akira quit being an auror, grudgingly, Akira agreed and began to work at Black Imports several days after that.

Sirius ran away from home during his fifth year after Walburga tried to threaten him into taking the Dark Mark and ended up at the Potters—he only regretted not being able to convince Regulus to come with him.

Andromeda read Sirius' letters with quiet dread at the thought of her young cousin being the 'good' son and doing what Sirius could never do. Regulus was too young, too quiet, she didn't want to lose another person like she lost Bella—Cissy was bad enough with her marriage to Lucius Malfoy.

Nymphadora demanded to be called Dora almost the moment she learnt to talk 'properly' for a toddler—honestly, what was wrong with the name Nymphadora?

Before she knew it, Sirius and his friend graduated and joined the fight, joining the Order with Ted's friend Edgar Bones.

Aunt Lucretia would show up unexpectedly almost a year after that with teary eyes as she croaked that Gideon and Fabian was dead before falling into Andromeda's arms with a sob—Uncle Ignatius had gone off to hunt down the Death Eaters in rage.

Junior and Akira returned Uncle Ignatius to Andromeda's house, all three of them lightly covered in blood with grimly satisfied smiles on their faces.

Sirius would turn up drunk in the New Year as he sobbed about Regulus being dead, that he must have turned scared when he realised what the Death Eaters were really like— _and they killed him, Andy! Killed my brother! I'm going to kill them!_

Bella became more infamous, her face plastered across the Prophet as her Monster Lord's most loyal.

Aunt Callidora Longbottom nee Black was killed when Death Eaters attempted to attack Frank Longbottom and a pregnant Alice Longbottom while they were visiting her—she took six Death Eaters with her with Frank and Alice taking another four. Aunt Cassi was livid and went on a vengeful hunt with Clementine at her side.

The beginning of July brought news that Andromeda was pregnant again—Dora was joyful, Andromeda was scared and Ted was between the two—and end of the same month brought the news of the births of Neville Frank Longbottom and Harry James Potter—Sirius was jumping for joy at being made Godfather of the newest Potter.

The beginning of March brought the birth of Calypso Tonks, a Metamorphmagus like her big sister, and Andromeda could almost forget the war as she devoted herself to her youngest daughter.

Before Andromeda knew it, Halloween was upon them and then November came with it's bittersweet news.

* * *

 **AN: Originally, I wasn't going to post this for a while but I've decided to post it now if only to stop me from rewriting it once again. I won't be updating quickly on this as I'm just recovering from a bout of sickness, depression and writer's block and I'm writing this as I go despite having it mostly planned in my head.**

 **I hope you like this chapter and this new series.**


	2. Chapter 2

It was quiet in the kitchen of the Tonks house the morning of November 1st, there was no whistling of the kettle, not toast under the grill and no pots or pans on the stove.

Calypso had been placed in her travel-cot where she was sleeping peacefully wrapped around the small black toy dog that Sirius had gotten her, she was ignorant of her mother's turmoil.

Andromeda sat at the small kitchen table with her head in her hands, she didn't know what to do. She knew what she should do, she should start on breakfast so it was ready when Dora came bounding down the stairs loudly—Calypso would wake with a start and Dora wouldn't really care because tears was for parents and grandparents and laughter was for big sisters that were sneaking her little sister soft chocolate when she shouldn't be.

She knew she should do that, that she should be doing that, but she couldn't bring herself to move, to gather herself enough start to set up the dining table with plates and cutlery.

Breakfast would be late today, Andromeda almost wanted to laugh at the stupidly mundane thought she had. How she could think about breakfast at a time like this?

She had known something had happened when the Prophet had turned up unusually early, but she hadn't expected this.

The Dark Lord was gone, dead some were saying though Andromeda could barely believe that. James and Lily Potter were dead, Harry Potter was being proclaimed a saviour and given the dark title of The Boy Who Lived, Sirius was asked to present himself at the Ministry for questioning about what happened at the Potters' and people coming forward late last night, claiming to be under Imperius Curse—Imperius Curses across the nation was breaking, people coming forward claiming to be under Imperius, and some of them Death Eaters.

No doubt some true Death Eaters would come forward in the following days with the same claim, Cissy's husband would be amongst the first to—Azkaban wouldn't treat the Malfoy Lord well after all.

Bella wouldn't do the same, couldn't do the same. She had been remade too loyal to the Dark Lord—and she had to be remade after her husband and the Monster finished breaking her into pieces—to lie or simply stop.

No, Bella would be revengeful, wouldn't believe her Dark Lord was gone, and Andromeda shuddered at the thought of what her sister would do now.

Bella would be consumed with the Black Wrath, the Wrath that Blacks of Old used to devastate battlegrounds and forged their magic in.

There would be no reasoning with Bella in such a state, she would rip through anyone to find her Dark Lord.

She hoped that Sirius didn't do anything stupid—a fool's hope perhaps. A fool could read between the lines of what the Prophet was saying, they were saying that Sirius involved in what happened at the Potters—which couldn't be true.

Sirius loved James Potter like he was his brother, he would never have done anything to endanger him or his family—especially not Harry, his godson. He would never willing betray or harm.

Willing, that was a thought. Did something happen to Sirius? Was he hurt? Is that why they wanted him? To confirm his well-being? Andi hoped so, but somehow doubted it.

Merlin, she hoped Sirius could clear this up quickly before they changed from suggesting his involvement and wanting him for questioning to him definitely being involved in it and wanting him in Azkaban.

She stared down at the paper and didn't know if she should laugh or cry, both would be tinted with relief, relief he was gone for what maybe good—or at least for now.

The Floo sounded from the living-room, but still Andi couldn't bring herself to move, not when she trusted Aunt Cassi's Wardens so much to know it had to be family.

Aunt Cassi swept through the doorway with a muttering Clementine behind her as the petite woman read the paper.

"I see you've seen the paper," Aunt Cassi commented, dark eyes glancing at where Calypso slept before she directed her lover to sit down with Andi before she, herself, went to put on the tea.

"Sirius will be able to clear this up, won't he?" Andromeda asked her aunt almost desperately. "He won't do something rash, will he?"

Aunt Cassi snorted; "He's a Gryffindor, rashness is in their nature."

"You, English, and your silly Houses," Clementine muttered, once in French then again in English with a note of frustration to her tone—which showed how upset the other woman was as she rarely lapsed into native language like that despite the Black family being fluent in the language.

"What's got Clementine all worked up this early?" Sue's tired voice sounded from the doorway where she stood in her pale blue dressing gown, her blue eyes clearing from sleep when she noticed the twin papers on the kitchen table. "What's happened?"

"The Dark Lord has been defeated," Aunt Cassi said bluntly as with a flick of her wand, three boiling mugs of tea were sent towards the other three women. "Three cheers for the Boy-Who-Lived."

"Boy-Who-Lived?" Sue spluttered as she gripped her mug, staring around at the witches in confusion. "What nonsense is that?" it was then that the first thing Cassi had said seemed to register and Sue sagged as she stood. "He's gone? Are you sure?"

"For now, at least," Cassi nodded as she gripped her freshly made mug and leaned against the counter. "I'll believe it when I see a body, cold and very much dead."

"What happened?" Sue repeated as she took a seat, nodding her thanks when Andromeda pushed over the paper for the muggle woman to read.

"What is wrong with people?" she finally asked, "how could they moniker the poor boy like that? It's just cruel—and Sirius! They don't actually think he has something to do with this?"

"It seems that they do," Cassi spoke darkly, glaring into her tea. "We can only hope that they will give a proper hearing."

"Surely, they wouldn't chug him in Azkaban without letting him clear this misunderstanding up?" Sue questioned and Andi almost laughed at the way her mother-in-law simplified things into a misunderstanding—like it was a simple misunderstanding they were indirectly accusing him of.

"They would—or at least Barty Crouch would and he's in-charge," Cassi answered grimly.

Barty Crouch Senior had no love or loyalty for his mother's house after all—not like his older sister, Lysandra—and Bella hadn't won them any favours since she graduated Hogwarts and began to openly be a Death Eater in a way the others hadn't the 'balls' to do, Bella's own words—or they had enough control and smarts to keep a cover of respectable person like little Cissy's prissy husband which Bella, sadly, didn't have anymore, an after effect of growing mania.

Honestly, she didn't know why 'Rus hadn't acted and locked Bella up where she couldn't harm anyone or herself—actually she could, he didn't want to interfere with Pollux's family more than he had to, but he should have realised he had to when it came to Bella and maybe Sirius wouldn't be in so much trouble.

He was the Lord of their family, he should have taken Bella in hand early when they first had a sign of her growing instability and not listened to Pollux's assertions that he had everything in hand—Pollux couldn't even keep a misbehaving crup in hand.

And Barty, how Ris' son turned out like he did, well, Cassi couldn't understand it especially considering how well Lysandra turned out and Calli's and Ella's children also turned out well—even with Ella's youngest odd fondness for taking apart muggle things.

Briefly, Cassi turned her thoughts to her sister. Would Dorea be able to bring herself to come back to England for James and his muggle-born wife's, Lily, funeral? She hadn't returned for Fleamont and his Greek wife's funeral after all—something James hadn't forgiven her for according to Sirius.

But then again, Fleamont and his wife died of the 'pox much like Charlus and Leo had, the memories must have been too much for her to deal with.

(Dorea, the youngest, had never had to be as mentally strong as Cassi, as the eldest, and Marius, the squib—Pollux had always been an idiot)

Dorea's granddaughter, Colette, should be almost fourteen now, if Cassi recalled correctly, and part-way through her fourth year—Cassi doubted Arielle would pull her daughter from school for the funeral, but that didn't mean the French woman couldn't make an appearance.

Thinking about the French Potters made something come to mind.

Just where was Harry Potter?

Not with Sirius obviously as they suspected him of being involved with the Potters' death and were looking for Sirius.

Andromeda, as Sirius' cousin, hadn't been asked to look after him until everything was sorted out and Cassi doubted the Ministry had packed their toddler saviour off to French already despite the other Potters' blood-claim to the boy—they may not allow Arielle take the boy back with her after the funeral (if she turned up), or allow her to take the boy anyway because the Prophet was turning him into a national hero.

So where had they stashed the toddler hero?

* * *

It was eventually agreed that they could only hope that Sirius didn't do something rash and people kept a cool head when he finally went the Ministry—Cassi had snorted and had muttered about them having 'no hope then' which made Clementine slap her lover on the arm with an annoyed look.

Cassi's dark prediction turned out to be true when the Prophet showed up the next day and screamed the headlines of the murderer Sirius Black at the family.

* * *

Cassi could have smacked her great-nephew, she wanted to shake him and demand to know what he had been thinking—if he had been thinking—when he got into a duel with Peter bloody Pettigrew in the middle of a muggle street—a duel that ended up killing thirteen muggles and Pettigrew himself.

Foolish son of a bitch Gryffindor, didn't he ever think? He just signed his ticket to Azkaban! Now they wouldn't care if he was innocent or not of betraying the Potters', he had killed people and had exposed them to a whole muggle street!

And the worse thing? The Blacks couldn't do a damn thing to help him, Sirius had dug his own grave.

If Cassi was angry then Andi was grief-stricken as she cradled Calypso close and stared out the kitchen window and at the half-dug pond that Joseph was currently making them—early retirement didn't suit the ex-builder.

"We can't do anything, can we?" Andromeda asked dully, pressing an absent kiss to the dull blue hair of her daughter—Calypso was unusually good at picking up the moods of the people around her and reacting to them.

"No," Cassiopeia sighed, running a hand through her greying hair. "We can't, I doubt they'll even bother with a trial for him. They are saying he confessed, that he said everything was his fault."

Andi's face crumbled before she hid it in Calypso's hair, making the just short of eight-month old to awkwardly pat her mother's head in an attempt to comfort her.

Calypso's hair turned reddish around the tips and roots with mild frustration as she struggled with action, her little face frowning at her arm as she carefully moved it before she finally gave up and just wrapped herself around her mother's neck—hugging was easier than patting, it seemed.

The floo sounded and Akira grimly entered the kitchen making Cassi sit up straight and Andi to lift her head.

"The Lestrange family has just been arrested for the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom," he informed and Cassi's breath caught in time with Andi's though for different reasons.

Frank? Augusta's boy? Calli's only grandson? Bella had dared to raise her wand to Calli's only grandson?

"Where are they?" she asked, breathless and Akira gave her a sympathetic look.

"St Mungos," he told her, knowing who she was concerned over. "Auntie, it's not looking good."

Just him calling her Auntie in English told her that as Akira had always been fond of mixing in Japanese with his English.

* * *

Ted met her at the front desk, his face grim and eyes dark—either he expected her or Andi had a quick way to contact him.

"How are they?" Cassi demanded. "Where are they?"

"I can't tell you, you know that," he told her as he gestured her to follow him.

"I'm family," she insisted, panic beating a drum in her chest mixing with a low-burning anger. "Calli was my best friend, my cousin, Augusta is my goddaughter. I have the right to know what's happened to their boy!"

Something seized in her chest when she recognised where Ted was leading her—the Janus Thickey Ward—and she gripped his arm.

"What do she use on them?" she asked lowly and Ted looked very grim and almost unwilling as he told her.

"The Cruciatus Curse,"

* * *

The sound of a child's wail pierced through the air as they made their way closer to the Ward.

Neville, Cassi thought with a small bit of relief before she turned the corner.

Milton Longbottom was holding his wailing grandson with a lost look on his suddenly aged face, blue eyes staring grimly at his wife's back as Augusta held court with the Healers.

"What do you mean, you can't do anything?" August hissed, dark eyes narrowed and mouth pursed. "You have to do something! That's my son in there!"

"They were held under the Cruciatus for over ten minutes each," one Healer told her, tone sympathetic. "There is just too much damage for any hope of them recovering, I'm sorry."

"I don't want your apologises!" Augusta snapped. "I want you to do something!"

"Augusta," she called out and dark eyes—Black eyes—snapped to her and for a moment Augusta hesitated in a way that almost broke Cassi's heart before she slumped.

"Aunt Cassi," she whispered and Cassi moved to embrace her goddaughter who willing went into her arms—something in her chest relaxed at that. "Bellatrix, she tortured my Frank."

"I know," Cassi told her, holding her tight. "She'll get Azkaban for this."

"I want her dead!" Augusta hissed into her shoulder. "I want her dead in front of me."

"I know," Cassi soothed as she pressed a kiss to Augusta's dark hair. "I want that too."

It didn't matter that Bellatrix was her great-niece, Bella had raised her wand against family. She had tortured Frank, _Calli's_ grandson, and that was unforgiveable in Cassi's eyes.

"Rupert," Augusta muttered almost lifelessly. "I have to owl him, he's out the country. He has to know about Alice."

"Let me deal with that," Cassi told her. "You need to rest, to be there for Neville."

"Neville," Augusta repeated, a spark of life, of fire, back in her voice. "Neville."

"He's here," Milton muttered as he stepped forward, "I can't settle him, I don't know how."

There was a note of frustration in Milton's voice, but Cassi wasn't surprised, Milton didn't know how to deal with people, not really, and much preferred his plants.

"Here," Augusta pulled away from Cassi and reached out for her grandson, holding him close and rubbing his tiny back. "It's okay, Neville, Gran's here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, I promise."

* * *

The Potters' funeral was lavish, crowded and filled with reporters.

James would have loved it, Remus thought sadly, he would love all the attention being centred on him. Lily wouldn't though, Remus knew, she would want it to be simple and low-key with only the most important people to them here.

He felt more of an intruder, skulking at the back, then the sea of strangers around him.

He hadn't been there when they had needed him, hadn't been there when James, his brother in everything but blood, was in trouble and Lily, fiery yet sweet Lily. He should have been there, should have been there to help them.

How could Sirius betray them? How could Sirius kill Peter? Remus couldn't understand it, didn't want to understand it.

He shook his head, there was no point of thinking about Sirius Black, and took another long glance around with his green tawny eyes—still no sign of Harry.

His relief warred with disappointment, relief that Harry wouldn't have to see his parents buried and disappointment for not being able to see him—Dumbledore had already told him that Remus would have to stay away from Harry for Harry's safety, the Longbottom's attack showed that not all Death Eaters were content to lay down their wands after all.

He paused as he witnessed tall and slender Andromeda Tonks enter the church with her shorter husband, Ted, and a slender blonde woman that Remus only knew from photographs—Arielle Potter had come to England, had come to the Potters' funeral.

Dorea Potter wasn't with her daughter-in-law, she must be watching over Harry, Remus supposed. Dumbledore had said that Harry was safe with family, obviously he meant James' family because Petunia had never hidden her disgust and fear of magic or her hatred towards her own sister—she had been most unpleasant at James and Lily's wedding.

Arielle Potter's tawny gold eyes—cat-like eyes—scanned the crowd and her upper lip curled back in a silent sneer of disgust when she spotted the reporters, waiting and hoping for a glimpse of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Arielle muttered something to Andromeda, who nodded, and the three of them settled in empty seats at the back—obviously they weren't going to call attention to themselves.

* * *

Akira made a face at Calypso, who stared back with unimpressed dark eyes.

"What? You don't find me funny, So-chan?" he asked in fake hurt and she yawned in his face making him smile despite himself.

So-chan was proving herself to be very different from the babies he dealt with in the past, something that endeared her more to him, and one of the many reasons that So-chan was his favourite cousin beside Jun-kun, and why he was happy to baby-sit her while Andi and Ted was at the Potters' funeral—Dora, not so much so she was left to Jun-kun.

"You don't need to make a face to look funny," Junior—Jun as Akira fondly called him—muttered from where he was resignedly playing tea-party with Dora—the pink feather-boa did wonders for him, Akira thought with a mental snigger—something he wasn't used to as Kris had never been one for tea-parties and 'thia had always preferred playing with her toy potion-making kit.

Akira was lucky that Hana-chan had preferred having tea-parties with her delicate dolls over real people.

"He's not doing it right," Dora told Jun bluntly before calling for Calypso's attention. "You do it like this," with a wrinkle of her nose, Dora's nose and mouth turned into a duck-bill that made So-chan giggle.

"Not all of us have your gift, Dora-chan," Akira reminded her making the eight-year-old shrug as it didn't concern.

"I can't help the fact you are lesser mortals," Dora declared as she threw her nose—duck-bill—in the air with an air of smugness making both Akira and Jun blink at her in bewilderment as So-chan giggled in Akira's grip, obviously amused by her big sister.

"Where did you learn that?" Jun demanded while Akira began to smirk, amused.

"Aunt Cassi," Dora said promptly, still wearing that damned duck-bill. "She told me that I needed to control my ability so I don't show up the rest of you."

"Did she really say that?" Jun asked making Dora frown as much as she could with her duck-bill—seriously, why did she still have a duck-bill?

"Well no," Dora admitted. "But I knew that's what she meant."

Jun hummed unconvinced before tapping her on her bill; "You'll get stuck like that if you aren't careful."

With a wrinkle, Dora's nose and mouth was back to normal.

"No, I won't," she denied, "I don't get stuck!"

"Then why was your hair spiky and green for a whole month?" Jun asked her with raised eyebrows.

"I was having a green month," Dora declared hotly.

"And the webbed hands were because….?" Jun continued to ask, biting back a smile.

"I wanted to be like a mermaid for a week, that's all," she told him with a glare.

"Right," Jun snickered making Dora scowl before she tackled him, sending the purple plastic tea-set everywhere, and hands went straight for the pink boa making Junior let out a strangled yelp as he tried to gently fend her off him.

"She's really a good role-model, huh So-chan?" Akira said to his little cousin making her nod her little head happily, hair a sunny yellow, making him smirk a bit. "Starting a fight because she's wrong, how Black of her."

* * *

Arielle Potter was very gold, Ted thought to himself as he passed her a fresh mug of tea. Golden hair, golden skin and golden tawny eyes—he thought it was funny that Leo Potter, a Gryffindor, had married a woman with a name that meant lion, it would be funnier if Arielle's hair was red instead of gold as she would perfectly showcase Gryffindor colours.

"Merci," she thanked him before gently blowing on the hot liquid before taking a small sip.

"What did Dumbledore have to say?" Andi asked from where she was swaying with Calypso in her arms—their youngest daughter fast asleep.

Arielle's pretty features twisted into a scowl; "he would not tell me where Harry is, would only say he was safe."

"Surely, he can't do that," Ted spoke with a frown. "You're his family."

"I am the wife of Harry's late second cousin," Arielle reminded him. "Barely family in some pureblood circles."

Ted grimaced, that was still something he didn't like thinking about though the English purebloods normally never married anyone that was less than a third cousin—Walburga and Orion Black were the only modern exception to that rule.

"But he must put Harry with family," Andi said with a frown. "It's the law."

"Your Dumbledore obviously found someone closer related than me," Arielle shrugged almost helplessly, her accent getting thicker the more she talked. "I'm going to petition through the Ministry, but honestly? I don't think you English will let Harry go, and I can't live here—too many memories."

"You're the closest family that James had," Andi muttered, still frowning and worrying about the absent Harry Potter.

"It must be Lily's family then," Ted decided making Andi frown harder.

"But the only family Lily still had was her sister and they haven't properly talked in years," Andi said, obviously remembering what Sirius had told her.

"Doesn't mean she would turn away her only sister's son, does it?" Ted pointed out making Andi nod almost reluctantly.

"Will you keep an eye out for him?" Arielle asked them.

"Of course, we were going to look out for him anyway," Andi told her making Arielle look thoughtful.

"But because of Sirius, oui?" she asked making Andi grimace and nod while Ted winced. "Do you think he really betrayed James?"

"Never," Andi said firmly before continuing softly. "But Sirius is a Black, we all have tempers. Pettigrew was heard accusing him of that, I can imagine Sirius snapping at that—especially considering Pettigrew was meant to be his friend."

"Leo had a temper sometimes too," Arielle mused, almost wistfully. "I believe you, and I will believe Sirius is innocent of betraying James."

"Thank you," Ted said as Andi turned her face away with wet eyes—it was the first time since November 2nd that someone outside the family believed them.

* * *

 **AN: I honestly didn't expect to write another chapter so soon, but here I am and here is the second chapter. I hope you like it.**

 **Someone wondered if Calypso would remember or retain things from the lives of my other self-insert series which made me realise that maybe I hadn't been clear when I wrote my first chapter.**

 **This is a brand-new series, this is Calypso's first life and will be the life that defined her like in my other series where her life as Hope defined her character throughout the series.**

 **I'm also attempting to make a more realistic view of what it's like being reborn, having memories that are both yours and not, and it's something I'm going to explore in this story and later stories in this series which I'm nicknaming the 'Life' series—I already have an idea of where I'm taking her next.**

 **So, if you have read my previous work and expected this to continue from where I left off because of writer's block, then I'm sorry to disappoint you and I hope you enjoy Calypso's story as much as my other work.**

 **It's also pointed out that I did a rather big info dump in the first chapter that people could get bored with. I'm sorry for that, but I feel that it's necessary world-building. I could be wrong, and I'm sorry if it frustrated or bored people, but I'm sticking by what I wrote and posted.**


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of ninety-one wasn't much better for the family as Vivian Black died in her sleep in early December—Christmas was as a subdued affair that year despite it being Calypso's first Christmas.

January ninety-two brought the first meeting between Calypso Tonks and Neville Longbottom—a play-date encouraged by Aunt Cassi.

Neville was a quiet and shy toddler while Calypso was just a quiet toddler so they got along well—in their own quiet way.

Cynthia Kowalski announced she would be marrying Jared Weasley in July, and both Calypso and Jared's own cousin, Ginny Weasley, would be flower girls—Kris informed her sister that she wouldn't be wearing a dress, no matter what.

After Calypso's first birthday, Hanako Black decided to move to Japan and personally run the Japanese branch of Black Imports—something that Akira readily approved of as he had been worried his parents would encourage him to take over that branch himself.

July came soon enough and the day of the wedding was upon them, Dora quickly enough bonded with Charlie Weasley while Calypso frowned at the rowdy Weasley's and gripped her mother's skirt whenever one looked like they were coming over to her—unlike Dora, Calypso didn't like the loud and lively lot that Cynthia was marrying into—not that stopped them until finally Calypso fled to the safety of Akira's arms—something that delighted him.

September brought the news that Cynthia was expecting her first child, something that delighted Gloria—who spent the time she wasn't working at Junior's bakery, knitting various baby things for her first grandchild.

June of ninety-three brought the birth of Newton Weasley—named in honour of Cynthia's father and great-uncle—to the joy of both sides of the family.

And Kristina Kowalski graduated and joined Auror training—to the concern and dismay of her mother and brother, and the total lack of surprise to her sister.

* * *

Arcturus Black sat in his office and felt older than he really was as he stared at the family-tree before him.

His dear Melania was dead, his siblings were dead, his son as well as his youngest grandson was dead and his older grandson was as good as dead.

Bellatrix had stained the family's name, she had attacked the grandson of Cousin Callidora, and she would rot in Azkaban for it.

Alphard Black was missing, presumed dead, and Walburga Black was still going strong—unfortunately.

No doubt, Pollux and Cygnus were already planning to make young Draco Malfoy the Black Heir though they would fail.

Arcturus wasn't going to let that upstart family take everything the Blacks had bled and worked for, which meant he needed an heir.

Great-Aunt Iola's bloodline had been magically disowned—at least partly—so none of her half-blood grandchildren, great-children and such could become Heir Black, neither could Uncle Phineas' bloodline as the same happened to him.

Cousin Marius' bloodline was out as family law dictated that the Black heir needed at least four generations between them and a direct squib relation.

Alphard Black had sired several bastards across the world, but they couldn't inherit as they were bastards and Alphard had never formally claimed them—he wondered if his cousin's son even knew he was a father several times over.

Which left Andromeda's bloodline.

She was formally disowned by her father, but only Arcturus could magically disown her—despite what Walburga may think—which meant she was still very much a Black.

Cassiopeia had taken her under her wing, made sure to introduced her to Marius' lot, and Andromeda's muggle-born husband was doing well as a Healer.

She had two healthy daughters with strong Black blood—the first Metamorphmagi in seven generations—and one was young enough for the needed lessons to make her the Heir Black.

Unfortunately, both Pollux and Cygnus had soured Andromeda's thoughts of such lessons with how they mishandled Bellatrix though he was hopefully that Cassiopeia would convince her that it would be different with her daughter.

Though he wouldn't be surprised if Cassiopeia was already training little Calypso on the sly, Cassiopeia would easily see that Calypso was the only possible Heir for the family, the only possible hope so the Blacks didn't die out because of the foolishness of some of their family members.

* * *

Dora almost wanted to sigh as she glanced down to where her little sister had wrapped her chubby arms around her leg and rested her head against her thigh—thankfully Calypso hadn't buried her face into Dora's jeans, she didn't want to get on the Hogwarts' Express with snotty and tear-covered jeans.

She glanced down the platform and noticed Charlie grimacing down at the leg of his jeans—obviously, Ginny hadn't as considerate as Calypso had been despite being the same age and the fact that Calypso was dealing with losing her only sibling for months on end while Ginny would still be surrounded by brothers.

It was only the dark navy of her hair and the little trembles of her tiny shoulders that showed just how upset Calypso was, unlike Ginny who was currently sobbing into Bill's shoulder as he spoke to his brothers, Percy and Ron, as Mrs Weasley had to grab the twins by their shirt-collars to stop them causing more chaos.

"'miss you," Calypso whispered making Dora grin fondly as she picked her little sister up and catching her mother cringe when Calypso rubbed her snotty nose on her sleeve making Dad pat her on the shoulder in comfort.

"I'll miss you to, Caly," Dora squeezed her baby sister close as Calypso's arms wrapped around her neck though she made sure not to bury her face into her neck and hair—and that was why Dora's sister was so much nicer than Charlie's. "But it'll be Christmas before you know it."

"Liar," she accused her lowly making Dad chuckle as he reached out to take his youngest.

"Come on, Caly, you got to let Dora go now," he told her as he plucked her out of Dora's arms before settling her on his hip just in time for Mum to attack Calypso's face with a hanky. "You'll have a great time at Hogwarts, remember to make lots of friends."

"I will," Dora replied amused as she watched Calypso attempt to lean away from Mum and her hanky while Dad cheerfully ignored it.

"Stay still," Mum ordered Calypso as she wiped her daughter's teary and snotty face. "Honestly, using your sleeve…."

"Letters," Calypso grumbled as she did as she was ordered. "Dora got to send letters."

"Every week," Dora promised making Calypso pout and nod as Mum finished before she turned to Dora.

"Remember to finish your homework before messing around," Mum told Dora as she put the hanky away. "Be careful of the Legacies."

Dora almost grimaced at the thought of the Legacies, Death Eater Legacies, and noted she definitely didn't want to be a Slytherin where the largest number of Legacies would go.

"Don't worry her over them, Dromeda," Dad grumbled. "It's been almost three years, they should know not to try anything under Dumbledore's nose."

"Dumbledore didn't stop them when we were at Hogwarts," Mum replied sharply before softening as she placed a hand on Dora's shoulder. "But your dad's right, don't worry about them and have fun—not enough fun that I'll be contacted about your behaviour though."

"And she was doing so well," Dad mumbled fondly when he hugged Dora close with Calypso reaching out to pat her sister on the head making Dora laugh.

"You best get on the train now," Mum said as the train began to sound the last whistle making Dora nod weakly.

Suddenly, she wasn't feeling as excited as she was before as she stood in front of her family—it would be months until she saw them again.

"Go on," Dad smiled at her, loving but sad, as he wrapped his free arm around Mum, who was shifting like she was about to fuss.

Dora nodded and climbed up into the train, sticking her head and arm out the window almost immediately.

"Bye!" she shouted as Calypso waved back and their parents smiled at her. "See you at Christmas!"

And the train started moving, taking her away from her family and to Hogwarts.

Dora didn't leave her place leaning out the window until her family was out of view, she didn't know how she felt about Hogwarts now she was finally on her way. She had been so excited before, but now, not so much as the reality of being away from her family hit her.

"Dora!" Charlie shouted as he pushed through the other students who were looking for their friends and free carriages—many of them now grumbling about the newest Weasley firstie. "Bill's saving us some seats."

At least she wouldn't be alone, she still had Charlie and Bill after all.

* * *

Calypso was going to turn four in March, but sometimes she felt older, more grown up then she should, and she didn't know why.

She sucked on her lower lip as she stared down at the colouring book in front of her, she had seen her cousin, Newton's, colouring book and it was nothing like hers as he didn't seem to care about using the right colour and only cared about using his favourite colours.

Calypso, though, she couldn't just choose her favourite colours when she was colouring in a picture when she knew what colours they were meant to be. Something in her rebelled and said no, that's not the right colour for that object or animal or whatever, it was strange but she accepted it.

Like she accepted her strange dreams; dreams about a strange city she had never been to, people she had never met, a mum that wasn't her mummy and a dad that was nothing like her daddy, of a brother instead of a sister, of cousins she barely played or talked with, of illnesses and pain she had never been plagued with and of dogs she wished she had.

It was because of those dreams that she could read, she had vague memories of reading so many books—books Beatrix could never find for her, and Trix was always reading—and that helped her recognise words when Grandma first started to teach her to read—though sometimes her mind blanked and she couldn't understand anything, something her dreams made it seem was common when it came to her.

And the dreams were about her, a different her but still her the same. Perhaps that was why she accepted them so easily, she didn't know, but she didn't think they were bad as they helped her learn things more easily—things would be harder without them, Calypso knew as both the real her and dream her had trouble learning things.

And in the end, they were just dreams, they weren't that important despite the help they gave her.

A heavy hand, rough palm and familiar, rested on her head as the owner took a seat on the sofa behind her.

"Having fun, Caly?" Grandpa Joseph Tonks asked her, hazel blue eyes looking at her colouring. "You're getting very good."

"Thanks," Calypso replied with a slight nod as she reached for another thick pencil.

He rubbed her head, messing up her hair, before leaning back on the sofa as he watched his youngest granddaughter.

"Don't you want to go outside?" he asked and smiled at the face she pulled at the thought. "Fair enough," she glanced up at him at that, "I don't think my old bones would take chasing after another Dora."

"Not that old," Calypso told him seriously and he chuckled as he patted her head—unlike Dora, Caly never cared if someone messed up her hair.

"Thanks, kid,"

* * *

It's Christmas and it's the first time Calypso would see her sister since September, and she was impatient as she shifted next to Grandpa—mummy and daddy were working—and waited for the train to come in.

It was cold—which she didn't like—but less crowded than it had been in September—something she did like—and Dora was taking too long—in her opinion.

"She'll be here soon," Grandpa chuckled as he glanced down at his youngest granddaughter as she pouted behind the long soft blue scarf that Gloria had knitted her and Sue had wrapped around their granddaughter's neck before they left. "You need to be patient."

"Don't wanna," came the almost sullen reply making Joseph laugh again—she'd learn, Joseph knew—and place a restricting hand on top of her blue knit hat as the train began to pull in making Calypso stand on her tip-toes, determined to see Dora before her big sister could see her.

The doors opened and allowed the small stream of students to leave the Express, Calypso caught a glimpse of Weasley red hair and ducked from under her grandfather's hand to charge to her big sister.

She swerved around reuniting families and caught sight of her sister pushing Charlie Weasley with a laugh as Bill headed towards Mrs Weasley, and froze.

Her eyes locked onto the vivid pink locks that her big sister wore proudly and something deep in her mind clicked into place. Knowledge and foreknowledge—another life, not dreams—enlightened her mind and she shook as she stared unblinkingly at her sister, her big sister, as one image pushed itself forward in her mind.

It's of Dora, and yet not her at the same time. She's older and laid out on a stone floor, her hair—vivid pink—was faded and her cheerfully dark eyes were closed with her chest still—she was dead.

Dora's going to die, Dora's going to die, her sister was going to die, kept repeating in her mind as tears began to roll down her face. Dora's going to die, her sister, her big sister was going to die. Her sister that was always there was going to die, and Calypso didn't know what to do.

"Caly?" Dora's worried voice broke her from her terrible, horrible, thoughts and without thinking—refusing to think—Calypso rushed her older sister, Dora picking her up with a bit of a grunt, and clung tightly around her neck. "Caly? What's wrong?"

Calypso shook her head and just held tighter.

"I think she missed you," Charlie offered from beside them.

Dora, Dora, Dora, not Dora, please not Dora, not her sister, not Dora, Calypso kept thinking as she held her sister. She couldn't die, she couldn't, Calypso wouldn't let her.

* * *

"Aunt Cassi?"

Cassi looked up from her magazine and row an eyebrow at her youngest great-great niece, who stood before her and Clementine with red-rimmed but determined dark eyes.

"Yes Calypso?" she asked as Clementine glanced at Calypso worriedly and curiously.

"I want to protect the family," Calypso told her solemnly. "Teach me?"

Cassi glanced around the crowded living room; Kris was regaling an enthralled Dora about her auror training, Junior and Gloria was setting up the baked goods with Sue pottering around the kitchen as their dinner cooked, Marius and Joseph was talking—it seemed that Joseph was considering taking up carpentry for a hobby and wanted to know if Marius was interested, he was—Hanako was updating her father and mother of things in Japan, Beatrix was bothering Victoria about the possibility of an internship at Victoria's small clinic while Victor and Benjamin were talking about the possibility of getting a pet—Victor wanted a dog, Benjamin thought he should start off with a hamster—and Cynthia held Newton on her hip as she talked with her husband, Jared.

She almost looked away from her family and back to Calypso when she met the stare of Akira. Her great-nephew was sprawled in his chosen seat and his dark eyes were intent on the trio of Clementine, Calypso and herself—not that Cassi was surprised, Akira had latched onto Calypso almost as tightly as he had once latched onto Junior.

He tilted her head towards her—no doubt he knew what Calypso was asking—and was silently telling her that he was alright with it before he drew Ted into a talk.

Cassi huffed a laugh, brat thought he actually had a right to interfere, before she turned a stern eye on her youngest niece.

Calypso straightened under her gaze, her little face firm with determination but her dark eyes—Black eyes—showed dread and fear that made her tilt her head slightly.

Something had scared Calypso, something more real than any childish fear, but there was a stubborn tilt to Caly's own chin that Cassi recognised—the little Black wouldn't say a word on what it was.

"Fine," Cassi decided making Clementine give her a sharp glance. "But I won't go easy on you."

Calypso nodded her head, eyes older than her three—almost four—years.

"I know."

* * *

Calypso knew herself, she knew she was a coward, and she knew she wanted to run away—run far away from the second coming of that Monster Lord—but she was also a Black and they didn't abandon family—not the Blacks on her side of the family anyway—and she wouldn't—couldn't—leave Dora to die because Dora would fight, she was too stupidly brave and loyal to run away like Calypso would have—like Calypso wishes she can.

Aunt Cassi had fought against Dark Lords in the past, if anyone could help her keep her stupidly brave and loyal sister alive, it would be Aunt Cassi—not that did anything to help the fear and dread pooling in her stomach like cold lead.

Calypso couldn't run—she wanted to—because her family wouldn't, because they would fight, and they may like Dora could and Calypso wasn't like she was in another life, she loved more of her family than before, and she couldn't leave them, couldn't abandon like she once couldn't abandon her Mum—the only person she had ever been sure she loved in her past life.

She didn't know why she remembered, didn't know why she was given this life, this chance, but she wasn't going to waste by letting Dora or her family get hurt and die.

She couldn't.

* * *

 **AN: Sorry it took a while and this is short compared to the first chapter, but it took me a while to figure out this chapter. The story will pick up when Calypso goes to Hogwarts, and this are the just filter chapters of her childhood.**

 **I hope you liked this and let me know what you think.**


	4. Chapter 4

Aunt Cassi was a ward-breaker, she was a rune mistress, and Calypso wasn't surprised that Aunt Cassi chose to teach her runes.

Runes were hellishly difficult, but useful and Calypso wasn't going to waste her aunt's time by not trying her hardest—not when Dora's life depended on Calypso doing something, anything.

Runes were their own language, and Calypso already had a headache learning Japanese from Akira, French from Aunt Clem, and Latin and Greek from Aunt Cassi.

Learning didn't come easy to her, some of the fault laid at the feet of her learning-disabilities that she kept to herself, but sometimes she wondered if she was just stupid—why couldn't she get things? Why did her brain stall and nothing make sense?

It frustrated her—as shown by her maroon coloured hair—and made her want to cry—it sometimes made her cry—as she wrote out runes again and again because she had to prefect in writing them out or they wouldn't work or they would explode or something like that.

And she wanted to stop, to quit, because the her of before had always been a quitter—sometimes it was because her interest faded, other times it was because her chosen interest frustrated her or more often it was because her health played up and she couldn't focus on anything apart from the pain and the tiredness and how she was just fed up with feeling ill—but she was Calypso now and she couldn't be a quitter—couldn't let herself be a quitter—not when War was coming, not when a Monster was going to raise from the dead, not when Dora's life—her sister's life—and her dad's life was in danger—one because she couldn't stop doing the right thing and one because he was a muggle-born—and Calypso needed—desperately needed—to do all she could to save their lives because they were her family, they were her dad and her sister, and oh gods she was afraid.

Never in either of her lives had Calypso been this afraid, never had she felt so much dread, and it made her feel sick.

She still wanted to run-maybe they could live with cousin Hanako in Japan? –but she couldn't, not because she was brave—Calypso wasn't brave, she was a coward and she knew it—because she was more afraid of losing her sister, her father, her family, then the worst Dark Lord of the century—something that probably meant there was something wrong with her, something she had always suspected but never truly confirmed.

So, she would sit before the coffee table every day, she would draw out her runes again and again until the movements were perfect and she would mouth their names and meanings to herself so they would stay in her thick head—because she had to remember, had to focus, for Dora, for Daddy.

And if she hadn't gone a night without a nightmare since she remembered? That's fine, she'd deal with, she'd deal with her tears and her fears without worrying her family in the darkness of her bedroom. She'd curl up under her covers and hug her soft-toys close as she shook and wept, and she dealt with it. She was stubborn, had always been stubborn in many ways that weren't good, but she would use that stubbornness now, to save Dora, to save her Daddy.

She maybe only three, but she was also much older than that and that was something she could not forget.

She was also a Black, and a Black destroyed their enemies and grounded them into dust. Calypso may not be able to do that—not now, maybe not even later—but she was a Black and she would use that like she would use everything else.

For Dora, her sister, for Ted, her Daddy, and for the rest of her family—mad though they were.

* * *

To Calypso's frustration, she didn't just know everything about the future.

It was something that came to her as she worked her way through her cousin, Cynthia's, old first year potion text-book—heavily edited and the margins filled with notes—and realised just how little she knew despite having foreknowledge.

She knew that the Dark Lord was going to come back, she didn't know how but she knew it had something to do with Harry Potter.

She knew if she did nothing then Dora, her sister, would die.

She knew war was coming and that Hogwarts wasn't going to be safe.

And she knew that Harry Potter would be in the centre of it all—something that made her want to stay as far away from him as possible.

Calypso chewed on her lower lip as she stared at the printed text and neat handwriting, her hair was once again a familiar maroon colour that she was getting used to.

A weight pressed against her back, fiery locks brushed her shoulder and pudgy hands gripped her shoulders broke her from her thoughts.

"Play," Newton Weasley demanded of her as he pushed more of his weight on her back, so she was bent further over his mother's book.

"Reading," Calypso retorted as she pushed back—suddenly wishing she wasn't close to her cousins.

"Play!" Newton demanded once again—obviously used to getting his own way with his other cousins.

"No," Calypso scowled down at her book, why couldn't she had been the youngest of her branch of the family?

"Play," he whined as he shook her shoulders.

"No!" Calypso snapped and pushed back so he landed on his bottom, only to pause when she heard his breath hitch. "No," she whined just as he let out a wail that finally stirred his chuckling father from his place on the settee.

"Come on Newt, you're not even hurt," Jared Weasley told his son as he lifted him up from the floor, glancing at the darkening hair of his wife's 'cousin'. "Caly didn't mean it, did you?"

The look on the youngest Tonks' face said she had meant to push him back and only regretting it because he was crying, and Calypso didn't do tears.

"I'm sorry," came the automatic reply from the three-year-old.

Newton sniffed as he stared down at his cousin with watery eyes.

"Play?" he asked once again, sounding pathetic.

Calypso gave a pleading look to Jared, who in turn gave her a firm look, before she gave a sad look to her book as she placed it down on the coffee table before turning back to Newton with a resigned look on her little face.

"Fine," she said grumpily making Newton beam down at her from his father's arms.

"Yay!" he cheered as he reached down to his cousin as his father placed him back on the carpet. "'reatures! 'reatures!"

Calypso lightened up a bit when Newton dragged out his collection of magical creatures' figures—gifts from his namesake and great-great uncle—and took the offered thestral while Newton grabbed his favourite dragon figure.

Jared watched as the two toddlers began playing before retreating to his settee and his discarded paper—unlike Newton's playdates with his Weasley cousins, his playdates with Calypso were generally quiet and allowed Jared to take his eyes off them for a little while and thus allowing him to catch up on the latest Quidditch news.

* * *

Neville, Calypso decided rather early, was her favourite cousin.

He was quiet and was just happy to spend time in her company which allowed her to read and Neville to potter around the little patch of garden that his grandparents had given him when he took such a keen interest into his grandfather's work with plants.

He wasn't demanding like Newton and was happy to only share quiet words as they spent time together. He didn't cling to her when they were put down for their naps like Newton did, but curled into her slightly as they slept.

Neville quietly glowed with happiness when she asked him about his garden or when they would clumsily make daisy-chains and crowns under the watchful eye of the Longbottom's house-elf, Sage, or they took turns reading one of Calypso's books.

He didn't call her books boring because they had few pictures in it—not like Newton did—and was happy enough to let Calypso stumble through the words as she read out loud to him.

He allowed Calypso to talk about her struggle with runes, humoured her attempts to teach him, and was grateful that she never got mad for repeating herself because of his forgetful nature—as there was times that Calypso was forgetful herself and the repeating helped her remember.

Overall, Calypso liked Neville more than she did Newton and preferred her playdates at the Longbottom's more than her playdates at the Weasleys' despite having more playdates with the Weasleys'.

(Her play-dates at her Weasleys' house was going to get louder as cousin Cynthia was pregnant again)

* * *

March 4th, her birthday in both lives, and the first birthday she would have without Dora.

She didn't like it, she had been spoiled by an older sister that was always there, and much preferred her birthdays with Dora.

But her family had done their best to make up for Dora not being there, both Mummy and Daddy had taken the day off work, Newton and Neville had both be invited, and the rest of the family had gathered round—Black Imports had been shut down for the day.

Aunt Gloria had baked her a two-tiered chocolate birthday while Junior had baked her favourite gingerbread men biscuits.

Akira did his best not to smother her in affection and had given her a rather large dragon soft-toy that was charmed to always be warm like he had fire in his belly instead of fluff—the fact that Calypso had barely put him down (she had named the black dragon 'Toothless') made him rather smug which made Junior smack him on the back of his head for being insufferable.

Cynthia had given her a toy potion kit that would teach her how to prepare potions in later life, Newton had given her a hand-drawn picture of them with their dragon and thestral waging war that he proudly declared he had drawn all on his own, and Jared had gifted her the Tales of the Beetle Bard—something that sent a shiver down her spine when she glanced at the chapter that contained the Tale of the Three Brothers.

Hanako had sent her an origami mobile of cranes charmed to change colour and charmed against damage and her best wishes from Japan.

Uncle Alexander and Aunt Ayame had given her books, books that she suspected that Aunt Ayame chose considering the focused on Japanese traditional magic like sealing and such.

Aunt Lucretia Prewett had sent her history books that she had penned herself and written for children in mind—a common gift for the children in the family.

Madame Longbottom had given her small aquamarine studs while Neville had presented her with a plant that encouraged sleep—apparently, he had noticed the dark circles around Calypso's eyes and asked for his grandfather's help to find a plant to help her sleep—it had silvery leaves and smelt a bit like lavender—Calypso had promised to look after it.

Kris had given her a small dagger that Mummy had swiftly taken off her before giving Kris a stern look, her auror cousin just shrugged her shoulders and said it was a Black tradition, wasn't it? Mummy wasn't amused, Aunt Cassi was.

Aunt Gloria had gifted her with a slim muggle cookbook filled with simple recipes that either Junior or herself would help her with. Junior had promised her a free treat whenever she went to his bakery—making Akira call him cheap and them to dissolve into a small shoving match that made the children laugh while the adults either shook their heads or rolled their eyes.

Grandpa gave her a puzzle box that he made himself, Grandma gave her several pairs of silver small hoop earrings and Uncle Marius gave her several jigsaws—so she would take time to relax a little instead of studying her books all the time.

Aunt Cassi gave her several slim books on runes while Aunt Clementine gave her several hair-ties and a silver brush and mirror set.

Daddy had gotten her a stuffed bear that paired well with the plastic-toy medical supplies that Aunt Victoria and Uncle Benjamin gave her and the small muggle book on the human body from Beatrix as the stuffed bear was charmed to help her learn about the body and 'react' to her treatments.

It was an unsubtle hint towards their chosen professions, Mummy scolded them for attempting to push her in one direct while Calypso smiled weakly.

A career, she hadn't even thought about something that far ahead. It made something cold pooled in her stomach as she stared down at the gifts, the hopes of her family entwined deeply in the gifts.

Calypso didn't even know if she would survive what was coming, if any of her family would survive despite the efforts she was going to put in, and as she stared at her family—happy and still alive—she almost wanted to tell them, to tell them that the Monster was going to come back, and war was going to rage across their homeland and Dora, oh Dora, she was going to die if Calypso did nothing.

But at the thought of telling them, of trying to make them believe her, made her throat tighten and her tongue feel heavy in her mouth.

She couldn't tell them, she didn't know how to tell them or make them believe her, and she felt frightened at the thought of telling them. What if they didn't believe her? What if they thought she was lying? What if they thought she was confusing her nightmares with her reality? What if they did believe her? What if they believed she had lived another life? Would they still look at her with the same loving eyes? Or would they see her as someone that had taken the place of their expected loved one?

Calypso was a coward, she was selfish, and she was weak. She couldn't tell them, couldn't bring herself to ruin what she had with them, with her family.

It was Victor shoving his present forward that broke her from her thoughts, it was a collection of Beatrix Potter books, and it let her smile just a bit more brightly as she firmly shoved those thoughts away—they would come back, she knew, probably that night as she attempted to sleep or in her nightmares.

Mummy passed her the last two gifts she had with a smile, one was from Dora and was several chocolate frogs—apparently, she asked an older student to get them for her—and the other was from her, a small package of mint humbugs and a collection of silk bookmarks in her favourite colours; blue, red, silver, gold, purple, black and teal.

Calypso smiled as she popped a mint humbug in her mouth before offering one to Neville—Newton didn't like minty sweets—who gladly took one after a nod of the head from his gran.

She still felt the absence of her big sister, but Calypso enjoyed her birthday surrounded by family.

A knock at the door made the adults exchange looks and frown as Calypso stared questioningly up at them—was they expecting someone else?

It was only when the knock was repeated that Aunt Cassi stood up and went to the door after giving the other adults a look that Calypso didn't understand.

"Arcturus," Aunt Cassi said in mild surprise as she opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Securing the family's future," the man, Arcturus, told her simply making Mummy wrap a protective arm around Calypso. "Will you let me in?"

* * *

 **AN; Sorry it took so long, but illness and writer's block have been a nightmare to deal with.**

 **I've looked over your reviews and some of you haven't liked the opening to this story, I was trying something new and it didn't work so I'm sorry about that. I will not be rewriting my current chapters, but I will not attempt to do something like that again in this series and this is the beginning of a brand-new series that I'm titling the Life series.**

 **I still hope you enjoy this story and feel free to share your thoughts, so I can improve either this story or the next story in the series. I thank you for being patient and sticking with me and my stories.**

 **I also hope you enjoy this small insight into Calypso, and like her as much as you liked my previous SI/OC.**

 **Thank you again and enjoy.**


	5. Chapter 5

Calypso Tonks stared as Arcturus Black was let grudgingly inside by Aunt Cassi, Aunt Cassi with her lips pressed together so tight her scar—the one that ran diagonally across most of her face—was also pulled tight across her features which made Aunt Clem's lips purse in concern as she eyed the cousin of her partner.

Arcturus Black was Black with the classic Black looks; dark eyes, proud nose, high cheek-bones. But he was a different to the Blacks that were settled around the room, he had none of the height that Violetta Black had given to her line and was about the same height as Augusta Longbottom—Callidora Black had come from a different line then Violetta Black too.

He hadn't aged as well as Uncle Marius or Aunt Cassi, his hair more white then grey and his face was terribly lined from stress and frowns more then smiling like Uncle Marius and Aunt Cassi.

He wore a suit that was cut in a wizard's style, a more old-fashion style compared to modern suits, and stood with his back straight and proud as he glanced around with dark eyes, dark eyes that stole the happiness that had been in the room before he had knocked on the door.

Calypso decided as his dark eyes stopped and focused on her that she didn't like him, though the glare she threw him seemed to amuse him more than anything— _bastard,_ her older-self, past-self, added almost spitefully in the back of her mind.

Mummy's arm tightened almost painfully around Calypso's shoulders and she caught the sight of Akira stilling out of the corner of her eye which made her stomach drop slightly.

While the official reason that Akira left the Aurors was because of his injury and family decision, there was a reason that the Ministry hadn't argued despite the war going strong.

Akira had too much Black blood running through his veins, it made him violent and deadly when his Wrath was stirred, and he used it against the Death Eaters without hesitation—which had caused concern in the wealthy Death Eaters that paid off the Aurors to allow him to leave without fuss.

She didn't think Madame Longbottom, or anyone else really, would be impressed if Akira's Wrath was stirred enough to attack Arcturus, and hoped this would be peaceful meeting—as peaceful meeting between Blacks can be.

(Aunt Cassi had once remarked Akira had been born in the wrong generation, he would have been more suited to the bloodier generations of Blacks long past when they were warriors, mercenaries and assassins.)

"I'm sorry about interrupting," Arcturus lied, and Calypso disliked him more—she hated lairs despite being a liar herself, a lie of omission was still a lie after all. "But time is short, and our family survival can no longer wait."

He almost sounded regretful, but his dark eyes were focused and intent on her—she really didn't like him—as a stilted silence settled amongst them.

"We're going," Augusta Longbottom announced stiffly after a long moment, hand tight and protective on Neville's shoulder as he looked up at her in dismayed confusion. "I'm sorry we couldn't stay longer."

"We understand," Mummy stated easily while Calypso scowled at Arcturus—because it was his fault, he was ruining her birthday, making Neville leave, making everyone uncomfortable and tense and Calypso really disliked him now.

"Neville's not going without cake," Calypso announced almost defiantly to the room as she turned to look at Junior as Madame Longbottom's lips tightened and Mum sighed softly.

"Of course not," Junior agreed before he slipped into the kitchen to get a slice of cake for Neville to take home with him.

It was barely a moment before Junior was back, holding a small white cardboard box, and Neville was shy in his thanks before Calypso squirmed from under her mother's arm and hugged her distance cousin for too brief of a moment before Augusta was gently tugging him away towards the fireplace with Neville's boxed up slice of cake in her other hand.

"Bye," Calypso waved sadly, and Neville echoed it before in a burst of green flames, he was gone.

Calypso turned towards Arcturus Black and wanted to tell him how he ruined her birthday, wanted to tell him that she didn't like him and never would because of this, but voice in her head reprimanded her, reminded her that they had been told that such things are rude—a lesson learnt in a past life, a lesson used in this life.

So, Calypso said nothing to the Lord Black, nothing to the Lord that most of her family had been banished from, and decided to go to Akira—he wouldn't slip into Wrath with her in his arms—and allowed him to pick her up and pull her on his lap—the things she did for family, part of her wanted to sigh.

* * *

Calypso Tonks was a quiet thing, Arcturus thought to himself, either by choice or by habit—Arcturus wasn't certain. He was certain that little Calypso didn't like him, the glare she had thrown him had told him that as well as the annoyed reddish tint to her dark hair enforced that.

She had control over her gift, he noted, more control than her older sister seemed to have according to reports that he had gotten.

She was an intelligent little thing as she had gone straight to Marius' Wrathful grandson and let him manhandle her on to his lap, arms caging her in and his cheek resting on the top of her curly head but never took her dark eyes away from Arcturus for long.

Yes, Arcturus was pleased with his choice of heir.

Now all he had to do was convince the family that rallied around the young heir. Perhaps reminding them of their family loyalty and values?

* * *

The signet ring seemed heavy on her right hand, the Black crest gleamed under the light, and Calypso didn't know how to feel about it—she had never expected this to happen.

She was the daughter of Andromeda Tonks, disowned daughter of the Black family, and somehow, she was made the Black heir—the Malfoy's won't be happy, she thought almost idly—and she still didn't like Arcturus Black—he had ruined her birthday and dumped a Ladyship on her.

"So little So-chan is going to be our Lady?" Akira lips brushed against her temple as he held her loosely to him.

"I don't want to be," Calypso scowled down at her hand and Akira laughed lightly.

"But you'll wear it well," Akira was confident, annoyingly confident in her. "You'll make the Black family great again."

Make the Black family great again, great was a matter of opinion and she knew the official Blacks would not and did not approve of her already—they could make things difficult—and what her family considered great was very different from what the wider Black family would think of as great.

"Don't pressure her," Junior told his cousin as he pushed at Akira's thigh with his foot. "She can do whatever she likes with the Ladyship."

* * *

 **AN: I think this may be my shortest chapter yet, I also think this may be my worst chapter yet.**

 **I was going to make it longer, I was going to take the advice of my friend to write about how Arcturus convinced them, but I'm finding it very difficult to write this.**

 **Some of it is because of writer's block, some of it is because my depression is getting worse, and some of it is because I no longer like what I have written. I have half-a-mind to either scrap this or at least rewrite it as I'm no longer happier with what I have written, I agree that I've added too many OCs, and I have no idea how to continue this story.**

 **I'm very sorry for this, I will be thinking very hard on what I want to do with this story and if I want to continue or rewrite it or even scrap this for now and chose another fandom to be the official first in this new series.**


	6. Chapter 6

Calypso blinked in bemusement and amber eyes blinked back at her almost innocently, Calypso blinked again, and yet it was still there so she wasn't seeing things.

"Why is there a cat on my bed?" Calypso finally asked without taking her eyes of the 'blue' kitten that had sprawled itself across her bed like it belonged there.

Dora snorted, amused by the utter bemusement that Calypso was showing, as she sorted through her little sister's school trunk—there was more books then anything else, Dora noted with little surprise though she smirked when she realised that Calypso had pointedly not packed the Lockhart books she would need for DADA and had packed the books that Aunt Cassi, Akira, Kris and Dora herself had recommended instead.

"She's yours," Dora told her little sister, and Calypso frowned at the British short-haired kitten.

"But I don't like cats," Calypso's voice was full of confusion and mild dislike—the kitten didn't like her tone and pointedly dug her claws into the soft brown blanket that she was laid on. "That's my favourite blanket!"

The kitten seemed smug as she continued to paw at the blanket with her claws making Calypso scowl at it before marching over to it and lifting it up gingerly, grimacing as the kitten dug its' claws in and dragged the blanket up with it.

"Who bought this demon?" Calypso asked as she glared into smug and defiant amber eyes as the kitten meowed almost tauntingly in Calypso's face.

"Akira didn't want you to get lonely," Dora sniggered as she went through the clothes that Calypso had packed for the weekends; woollen knit jumpers, jeans, various t-shirts and a pair of fur-lined boots that Calypso favoured summed up her sister's wardrobe that wasn't her uniform or underwear—how boring, Dora thought to herself as she slipped some of her old colourful band t-shirts in to liven up Calypso's wardrobe.

"And he thought to buy me this?" Calypso stopped herself from shaking the furry demon at Dora, but it was a close thing—the kitten glared as if it knew just what Calypso had intended.

"He actually wanted to buy you a dog," Dora admitted as she attempted to hide Kris' dagger under Toothless the Dragon who Calypso had decided was coming with her despite the fact some would say eleven was too old to still be sleeping with soft-animals—Calypso had scoffed and informed them all that there was no such thing as too old for soft-animals and they were just jealous that they let other people dictate how they should act. "But Junior reminded him that you could only have a cat, owl or toad."

"So, I have Junior to thank for Desdemona," Calypso said almost darkly, and Dora stared at her sister for a long moment, sheathed dagger still in hand.

"Are you really going to call that cute little kitten Misery?" Dora asked in mild disbelief and mounting amusement.

"I think it suits her," Calypso said innocently, and the newly named Desdemona hissed at her.

"I pity any children you have," Dora declared seriously, and Calypso scowled at her. "No really, I thought Mum was bad at naming things, but this?" Dora gestured to the disgruntled and hissing kitten hanging in Calypso's hands. "This takes the cake, you have officially won the prize of worst naming skills ever."

"It suits her," Calypso insisted stubbornly, and Dora just shook her head—she really did pity any nieces or nephews that Calypso would give her in the future.

* * *

The first meeting set the tone of Calypso's relationship with Desdemona, and reminded her why she had never liked cats.

Desdemona spent the rest of August knocking over her books, clawing at her blankets and/or jumpers, sitting on Calypso's face while she was sleeping, and being a general nuisance.

Calypso had experienced more ruined potions in that month than in all the years she learnt under her cousin, Cynthia, and that had been when she had to deal with the attentions of Newt, Thomas and Theresa trying to convince her to play—often pleading and whining until she gave in to make them stop.

The kitten was a little sneak and seemed to always know the worse moment to startle her or bat at her hands while she was carefully measuring the ingredients into her cauldron as Calypso tried to build up a supply of common potions that she could need without having to bother the mediwitch over trivial problems.

The kitten was a demon, a cunning demon that acted all cute and cuddly in front of Calypso's parents and grandparents while only being evil in front of Calypso and Dora—her sister was no help, she seemed to find the whole thing hilarious which only seemed to encourage Desdemona.

When Akira finally showed his face, she had almost demanded that he take the demon away, but couldn't bring herself to crush the hopeful look on his face when he asked how she liked the kitten.

If it had been anyone else, Calypso would have bluntly told them to take the demon away as it was ruining her life out of sheer spite, but she couldn't do it with Akira.

Akira who had always doted on her, Akira who had been overjoyed whenever Calypso allowed him to become cuddly with her, Akira who taught Calypso to throw a dagger with deadly intent, Akira who bought her the best presents, Akira that patiently played doctors with her as her constantly suffering patient, Akira that helped her refine her drawing onto a level she had never thought she could be capable of, Akira who called her So-chan and was always ready to help her with her Japanese if she thought she was getting rusty.

So, Calypso with gritted teeth, smiled and told him that she loved Desdemona very much—perhaps one day it wouldn't even be a lie.

The things she did for family, she grumbled internally that night as Desdemona decided to drape herself across Calypso's neck and bat her in the mouth repeatedly with her thick tail.

"I dislike you," Calypso hissed in the dark and Desdemona's long meow sounded too much like mocking laughter for her liking—bloody cat.

* * *

Andromeda Tonks almost scowled when she found the dagger that she was certain that she had already taken out of the trunk twice before had found itself once again hidden in its depth.

She suspected that Dora was the culprit this time as Kris hadn't been around since the first time that Andromeda found the dagger in the school trunk of her eleven-year-old daughter and gave her hell for it.

She did sigh when she realised the Lockhart books had been unpacked and flicked her wand to summon them from whatever Calypso had decided to hide them this time—Calypso had scowled heavily at the large list of Lockhart books and declared she would learn nothing from the arrogant overgrown buffoons' puffed up writing, of course Calypso had decided to make that declaration in the middle of Flourish and Blotts just after Lockhart himself had seized Harry Potter and declared he was teaching at Hogwarts.

To be fair, Andromeda doubted Calypso had actually realised how loudly she had spoken or that Harry Potter was even there, or the look of relief on the poor boy's face when Calypso's declaration had made Lockhart drop him with a shocked look on his handsome face which allowed Harry to escape in the crowd before Andromeda could take a closer look at him, as Calypso had been too busy scowling at her booklist in disgust—Calypso didn't even blush when she looked up and saw dozens of outraged witches staring at her, barely blinked at Lockhart's shocked stammer, and instead turned to a chuckling Akira with a demand of useful DADA books.

(Her youngest never seemed to understand the concept of shame, Andromeda thought with a hint of second-hand embarrassment)

Ted and Dora had roared with laughter when Andromeda told them later that day, Dora had even cried with her hair a bright and vivid orange as she slumped in her seat with the force of her laughter.

Aunt Cassi hadn't helped matters when she dropped by later that night and patted Calypso proudly on the back while giving her a 'useful' DADA book with a chuckle—and that was the woman that was meant to be teaching Calypso to be a proper Lady Black of House Black!

With another sigh and another swish of her wand, Andromeda unpacked her daughter's trunk and repacked it neatly—it was a good thing that Andromeda had invested into an expanded and charmed feather-light trunk otherwise all of Calypso's books wouldn't have fit and she would have had no hope in lifting it manually.

She locked the trunk with the little bronze key and tucked the key in the hidden pocket of Calypso's leather satchel already packed with one of Calypso's muggle fiction books, her robes rolled up to put on nearer to the school, and a note-book and a fountain pen—Andromeda would be slipping in a packed lunch before they left for the station tomorrow.

Andromeda, for a moment, stared almost mournfully at the packed trunk as it finally sunk in that she wouldn't be seeing her youngest until Christmas. Somehow, the thought of Calypso leaving hurt a bit more than Dora's did and caused a panic to stir in her breast, perhaps because Calypso was her youngest, perhaps because Calypso had never been as bold and loud as Dora, perhaps because Calypso was smaller than Dora had been at her age.

Andromeda didn't know, but she knew she was being silly. Calypso was going to be fine, it was just school, and Hogwarts was safe—why did she feel a sense of dread when she thought that?

* * *

The Hogwarts' uniform wouldn't get a second look without the dark outer-robes that students were required to wear over the top, so Calypso hadn't seen the point in not wearing the uniform to the train station.

The white blouse tucked into the knee-length pleated dark grey skirt, the over the knee dark grey socks, black school shoes, plain dark tie—that would change coloured and become striped in her House colours after she was Sorted—and dark grey jumper with the Hogwarts' crest on the left breast—which would also be changed to her House's crest—was a perfectly normal uniform.

The Notice-Me-Not charm woven into her wand holster made people's eyes skip over the slim bulge on the inside of her right wrist, strapped over her blouse sleeve and under the leave of her dark grey jumper. It kept her wand—Alder wand, 12 ¾, Dragon Heartstring—safe and able to be in her hand with the slightest thought and twist of her wrist.

For a moment, Calypso stood still in the family bathroom, hands stilling from tying the end of her French plait, and stared into the dark eyes that reflected at her from the mirror.

She was doing this, she was going to Hogwarts, she was going to a place where she knew was danger—what danger, Calypso couldn't quite remember (something to do with Slytherin?) and that frightened her—and she was going to be sharing the same space as Harry Potter.

Calypso couldn't stop the grimace crossing her face as she thought about Harry Potter, poor cousin Sirius' godson, the symbol of hope and war.

Harry Potter was at the centre of what was to come, he would be the one that people rallied behind, it would be in his name that Dora could die, and he frightened her—frightened her because he was the symbol of what was to come, he was the symbol of war, he was the symbol of her sister's death.

He was also basically family, she thought to herself almost glumly, and family shouldn't abandon each other, shouldn't betray each other, should stand by one another.

He was Sirius' godson, she reminded herself firmly, he was cousin Colette's closest English cousin, he was Great-Great-Aunt Dorea's great-great-nephew.

Still the thought of being close to him, in following behind in into danger, it made a shudder go through her and made her feel sick—it wasn't fair, she wasn't being fair as he was still just a boy that was a year older than her, but emotions weren't fair, they just were, and Calypso couldn't help the fact that she was frightened of him, that she wanted to avoid him while knowing she should stand beside him as family.

"Oi, breakfast is ready!" Dora shouted through the door, banging on it as she passed to the stairs.

Calypso shook her head and reached for her rings, putting the signet ring on her right ring finger that declared her as heiress Black and putting a rune-covered ring on her left index finger—her ring had an enchantment that stopped her Metamorphmagus ability, hiding it from public eye and saving her from the harassment that Dora had faced as a known Metamorphmagus while surrounded by hormonal and inconsiderate teenage boys.

She was now as ready as she could be, Calypso decided before she left the bathroom.

* * *

Platform 9 ¾ was crowded with people, cats twisting around ankles and owls hooting to each other.

Calypso hated it, she hated the people brushing against her in their hurry, she hated the loud voices that made her want to cringe, she already had to deal with one demon cat without having dozens around her, but she supposed the owls were pretty.

"There's Akira," Dora almost had to shout, one hand wrapped around Calypso's right and tugging her towards where their tall cousin was standing with a smile on his face—he had no problem with space, Calypso noted amused and envious at the almost nervous glances Akira was getting and the pocket of space around him—that brightened when he saw Dora's bright hair heading straight towards him.

"So-chan!" he called out happily, stepping forward with his arms held out and Dora rolled her eyes at being ignored by her cousin—she was long used to it—and released her sister into Akira's strong arms.

Calypso's face was as disgruntled as it was fond as Akira's arm folded around her and pulled her tight against him.

"I can't believe you're leaving me," Akira cried and pretended to sniffle. "I'll miss you."

"Only because you can't use me as an excuse to get out of work," Calypso deadpanned, arms locking around her cousin's slim waist loosely. "Uncle Alexander will be pleased."

"So cruel!" Akira pretended to wail, the effect was ruined by the smile she could feel pressed on her forehead. "How could you diminish the love I have for you?"

"Easily," Calypso said drily making Dora snigger as their parents finally got to them.

"Calypso, stop being mean to Akira," Andromeda astonished as Ted passed them to place Calypso's trunk in one of the compartments.

Calypso sighed, still held captive by Akira, and refrained from reminding her mother that Akira was old enough to defend himself, that he wasn't even hurt, and that he was used to her being 'mean'—in fact, Akira found it cute for some reason, and would declare that was how she showed her love, something that almost always made Junior scoff.

"She's just sad that she's leaving me," Akira said seriously. "She just doesn't know how to express it properly."

Andromeda smiled, amused, while Dora sniggered as Calypso pinched him hard out of the view of her mother—the fool didn't even have the courtesy to pretend to flinch, bastard.

"Let's do the goodbyes now," Ted said as he walked back over to them. "So Caly can get settled in her compartment."

Akira's arms tightened almost painfully for a moment before he reluctantly released her, a frown replacing his smile, and Calypso was brought into another hug by her dad and then her mum.

"You'll be fine," Mum muttered almost to herself as she held Calypso close. "You'll make friends, have fun and will probably spend more time in the library than anywhere else."

"And we'll hear all about it in her letters," Dora teased as she tugged Calypso into her arms, her short hair turning Calypso's favourite shade of blue—royal blue. "Don't write super long essays, the Professor's hate that."

"I won't," Calypso promised as she tightened her grip around her sister.

She was afraid, she didn't want to go, but it was for Dora, for her family, so she could protect them, so she pushed aside her fear, her worries, and let go of her sister.

Mum held out Desdemona's carry-cage and Calypso took it without a grimace as Akira was watching, and turned towards the scarlet train that would take her away from her family, take her away from anything familiar, and take her away from safety.

Calypso took a deep breath and stepped into the belly of the beast.

* * *

 **AN: I've decided that I'll do my best to finish this, I think this has shown me that my writing for the Harry Potter verse is quite weak despite my love for it.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I have no idea when I'll next update—I hadn't even planned this one, I just opened up word and began writing—but I'm hopeful it'll be sometime this month and not sometime next year.**

 **Thank you for all your kind words and best wishes, my depression is still hitting me quite hard but I don't want it to ruin my love of writing, I don't want it to ruin this story and I'm excited about this series I'm planning as Calypso's journey is just beginning, we have other worlds to explore with her.**


	7. Chapter 7

The door to the compartment that Dad had chosen for her was partly open, open enough for a familiar brown toad to settle in the threshold and watch the students walk by, Calypso didn't know if she should smile or sigh at the sight of that toad.

She stopped in front it, Desdemona's carrier in her right hand, and bent her knees to stretch out her left hand towards it.

"I will step on you," Calypso warned Trevor seriously, and he leapt onto her hand with a disgruntled croak—must all the animal in her life take such attitude towards her?

She straightened, grimacing at the students jostling her as they looked for friends and cringed at a high squeal of delight that echoed down the corridor, before she nudged the door open fully with her foot and was treated with the sight of her 'cousin' on his hands and knees as he looked under one of the benches of the compartment.

"Neville," she greeted fondly and almost smiled as the twelve-year-old boy jumped and his head snapped towards her in embarrassment, a rosy blush forming on sun-burnt cheeks—he got too engrossed by his plants again over the summer, Calypso noted as she eyed his sun-burnt cheeks, nose and ears.

"Calypso!" he greeted before spotting his erstwhile missing pet in his cousin's hand. "Trevor!"

He hurriedly stood and reached out for the toad escapist, Trevor croaking almost sadly at his plans being dashed, before putting the toad in the travel terrarium that Calypso had gotten him for Christmas last year after his letters of Trever the Great Escapist—as Calypso had dubbed the toad and Neville had agreed it suited him.

"He always getting away from me," Neville commented glumly. "I have half-a-mind to let him escape to the Black Lake."

"If you do, I'll buy you an owl—much better than a toad or a cat," Calypso told him as she shut the door behind her.

Desdemona hissed in outrage from her carrier at Calypso's words and Neville gave the carrier a startled look.

"You have a cat," he pointed out as Calypso placed the carrier on the bench.

"Yes," Calypso said with a glum sigh as she sat beside it.

"But you don't like cats," he pointed out and Calypso nodded in agreement. "Why do you have a cat?"

"Akira," was her only answer and Neville nodded in understanding as he sat across from her.

"What's its' name?" Neville asked curiously as he bent forward to see the glaring amber eyes of the blue kitten in the carrier.

"Her name is Desdemona," Calypso told him, and he gave her an odd look. "It suits her."

Smartly Neville decided not to argue, and instead asked her if she minded look over his potion's homework—she didn't—as he wasn't sure he got everything right.

Despite being eleven and not even a Hogwarts student yet, Neville knew that Calypso was better at potions than him and would probably always would be considering her cousin, Potions' Mistress Cynthia Weasley, had taught her since early childhood.

He doubted that Professor Snape would find too many or any faults with Calypso's work though he probably would think of something out of pure spite if Calypso wasn't one of his snakes.

Neville hoped he would be more tolerant as Calypso was likely going to be a 'Claw and Slytherin didn't have as many problems with the 'Claws as they did the Gryffs—in fact, the Eagles and the Snakes got along rather well like the Badgers and the Lions did.

Honestly, Neville would have preferred all his lessons with the Hufflepuffs and not the Slytherins, at least they didn't mock him like Malfoy and his croons did—accept for Smith, but he was the exception not the rule when it came to the 'Puffs.

* * *

It was an hour after they had finished going over Neville's homework which he would redo before he had Potions, and both had settled in with other things—Calypso with her book and Neville had freed Desdemona from her carrier and was currently stroking the kitten that was sprawled across his lap—when the door was opened with some force making Calypso look up in startled annoyance.

A Gryffindor student stood in the doorway; she was a petite girl that seemed taller because of the riot of bushy curls on her head and surrounding her face, her chocolate brown eyes shone with intelligence and were shrouded by worry, just visible across her nose were freckles that were only a shade or two darker than her skin-tone—a skin tone that suggested Caribbean or Africa roots—and her ink-stained hands were twisting together in worry.

"Neville," she greeted, relief and desperation mingling in her tone. "Have you seen Harry or Ron? I've been up-and-down the train, yet I can't find them anywhere—the twins didn't even know if they got on the train!"

"I'm sorry Hermione," Neville said regretfully, ignorant of how his cousin jolted at the name and looked at the older girl with wide-eyes, "I haven't left this compartment."

"Oh," Hermione said sadly, biting her lower lip nervously. "I hope they haven't got in trouble already."

"They'll be fine," Neville told her. "Harry's good at getting out of trouble."

"He's just better at falling into," Hermione retorted with a grimace before she seemed to become aware of the other person in the compartment. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself—how rude—I'm Hermione Granger."

"Calypso Tonks," Calypso offered in return as she shook Hermione's offered hand—she definitely wasn't an Emma Watson look-alike, Calypso felt a bit racist for just assuming Hermione was white. "It's fine, I can tell you're worried about your friends."

"Yes, well, Harry seems unable to turn without falling into some sort of trouble with Ron right beside him—sometimes egging him on," the last bit was muttered at a volume that Calypso was certain she wasn't meant to hear. "You're a first year? How do you know Neville?"

"He's my cousin," Calypso said simply, and Hermione blinked at her almost startled.

"Oh," Hermione said as she glanced between Neville and herself, Calypso could almost see her trying to find a resembles between them and failing as Neville took more after his mother—Alice Longbottom didn't have a hint of recent Black blood in her veins. "I didn't know your cousin was starting this year, Neville, Ron's little sister—Ginny—is also joining us, you know?"

"I know," Neville said softly—the Weasleys were as much as Neville's cousins as Calypso, closer even consider their grandmother was the sister of Neville's late great-grandmother—and Desdemona called attention back to herself as she arched back into Neville's still hand.

"Who is this beauty?" Hermione asked with coo and Desdemona shot her a look, eyeing the girl that was reaching out to stroke her before permitting the girl to stroke her with a purr.

"That's Desdemona," Calypso told the second-year. "She's mine."

"Desdemona? From Othello?" Hermione asked, almost perking up.

"Yes, I suppose," Calypso shrugged. "I find it hard to read Shakespeare—or any play-type writing, it's a bit too confusing for me."

"But Shakespeare is fascinating." Hermione objected.

"Yes, he was genius and all his plays are classic," Calypso dismissed indifferently. "But I prefer proper books over reading plays—besides, I find his writing over-dramatic."

"But it's Shakespeare," Hermione seemed appalled as she sat down without noticing.

"And I have great respect for him," Calypso replied. "It doesn't mean I have to like his writing."

Neville sat back, and stroked Desdemona as Hermione seemed to puff herself up to defend Shakespeare as Calypso's indifference seemed to offend her.

At least, Neville mused, Hermione was no longer worried about Harry and Ron.

* * *

Boats were bad enough in Calypso's opinion, being in a boat in the pitch black was the worst though.

Calypso clenched at her skirt as she sat rigidly in the boat, determinedly not looking at the pitch-black water that surrounded her and focusing her gaze straight ahead.

A cool pale hand wrapped around her left wrist and Calypso's head snapped to the side, startled, and meet calm pale grey eyes.

"It's okay," the blonde girl sat next to her said in a dreamy voice. "It's only the Wrackspurts making you feel this way, just think about how lovely the feast is going to be and they'll go away—I hope they have pudding, I do like pudding."

Calypso choked out a laugh and Luna Lovegood—who else could it be? —smiled serenely at her.

"Chocolate puddings are my favourite," Calypso offered after a moment making Luna give her a startled but pleased smile.

"They are rather good, aren't they?" Luna mused almost happily. "I especially love the gooey chocolate in the middle."

"That is the best part," Calypso agreed, the grip on her skirt loosing slightly.

* * *

Calypso Tonks was an odd child to Sort, the Sorting Hat mused, odd in a different way than Luna Lovegood. Too many memories floating around her head, making her feel much older than she really was.

She considered herself a coward, but the Hat disagreed. It took courage to enter a place one knew was unsafe, it took courage to learn to fight when you had never fought before, but Gryffindor wasn't for young Calypso Tonks—poor girl would probably have a heart-attack being in the same House as Harry Potter, the Hat thought to itself.

She was loyal, loyal enough to wade into war for those she loved, Helga would be proud to have her in Hufflepuff, but unfortunately, one House suited her so much better.

"Ravenclaw!"

She was smart, smarter than she thought herself, and she understood the value of knowledge, Ravenclaw was the best House for her though Helga would be disappointed.

* * *

Calypso caught sight of Neville clapping softly from the Gryffindor table as she walked towards the Ravenclaw table slowly—her tie becoming striped in bronze and blue, the eagle crest appearing over her left breast—and smiled towards him before she took a seat beside Luna Lovegood.

Luna Lovegood, pale blonde hair glowing gold from the candle light, beamed at her in sincere delight.

"Wit beyond measure," Luna began almost hopefully, and Calypso was almost startled to realise this was her way of becoming friends with Calypso, a friend that wasn't family was an odd thought.

"Is man's greatest treasure," Calypso finished with a smile, it may have been an odd thought, but it was a nice thought.

Their attention was called as Albus Dumbledore stood up with his arms wide.

"The very best evenings to you all," Dumbledore beamed around the hall. "Now to our new students, welcome, and to our old students, welcome back—another full year of magical education awaits you. But before that and before I let you enjoy our scrumptious feast, I would like to welcome Professor Gilderoy Lockhart as our Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher," he paused here to allow the hall to applause, something that neither Luna or herself joined and something Lockhart seemed to take great delight in as he stood and bowed towards the students with a beaming smile, "Mister Filch would like me to remind you that magic is banned in the corridors and several dozen items have also been banned—if you would like to review the list, it is pinned to the door of Mister Filch's office. I would also like to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden to all students," his blue eyes darted towards the Gryffindor table and briefly he frowned before smiling brightly as if to make up for his lapse of control. "Now, let's dig in!"

Immediately the tables filled with plates and bowls full of steaming food that gave off mouth-watering smells.

Luna reached for a pork-chop as Calypso reached for a few slices of chicken breast, Luna asked for the peas and Calypso in turn asked for the sweetcorn, both took a jacket potato to complete their simple meal—both seeing no need in gorging themselves—and began eating as they chatted lightly.

Calypso caught sight of who could only be Severus Snape entering the Hall from the side-entrance and speaking quietly to both Dumbledore and McGonagall for a moment—Dumbledore frowned, and McGonagall scowled—before all three of them left swiftly which sent several students whispering.

"Probably has something to do with Potter," an older Ravenclaw student said with important certainty. "Granger was up and down the train looking for him and Weasley."

"School hasn't even started and he's already in trouble," another mused as they reached for their goblet.

"Perhaps if Snape got his way," another agreed, "but Dumbledore won't punish his golden boy harshly—no matter what he's done."

"McGonagall might," one argued. "Face like thunder, even if Dumbledore goes light, she won't."

Calypso said nothing as she sipped her water—no sickly-sweet pumpkin juice for her. It was interesting to hear the views of her House when it came to Harry Potter, a view that wasn't very positive at that—Aunt Cassi had taught her the importance in listening to everything around her—and made her wonder how the other Houses viewed the boy-hero.

* * *

The fifth-year prefect beamed at the crowd of first-years that had gathered in front of him in the common room of their new House, he noticed their curious and interested glanced as they took in their surroundings which he understood fully.

He believed that the Ravenclaw common room had an elegance that the others lacked with its white marble floor covered by a deep sky-blue rug with an edging of bronze, the white marble columns that held the bronze figures of eagles that framed the arched entrances to the small pockets of bookcases filled with books, and the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw herself that stood in between the two sets of stairs that led towards the dormitories.

Scattered in the common room was sky-blue sofas, padded velvet chairs surrounding tables and leather armchairs. A bronze telescope was fixed in place in front of one of the large arched windows, ready for anyone to use.

He clapped his hands once to get their attention before he launched into the speech he had been preparing since the prefect badge had fallen out of his letter.

"Congratulations! I'm Prefect Robert Hilliard, and I'm delighted to welcome you to Ravenclaw. Our emblem is the eagle, which soars where others cannot climb; our house colours are blue and bronze, and our common room, as you now know, is found at the top of Ravenclaw Tower, behind a door with an enchanted knocker. The arched windows set into the walls of our circular common room look down at the school grounds: the lake, the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch pitch and the Herbology gardens. No other house in the school has such stunning views.

Without wishing to boast, this is the house where the cleverest witches and wizards live. Our founder, Rowena Ravenclaw, prized learning above all else – and so do we. Unlike the other houses, who all have concealed entrances to their common rooms, we don't need one. The door to our common room lies at the top of a tall, winding staircase. It has no handle, but an enchanted bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. When you rap on the door, this knocker will ask you a question, and if you can answer it correctly, you are allowed in. This simple barrier has kept out everyone but Ravenclaws for nearly a thousand years.

Some first-years maybe scared by having to answer the eagle's questions, but don't worry. Ravenclaws learn quickly, and you'll soon enjoy the challenges the door sets. It's not unusual to find twenty people standing outside the common room door, all trying to work out the answer to the day's question together. This is a great way to meet fellow Ravenclaws from other years, and to learn from them – although it is a bit annoying if you've forgotten your Quidditch robes and need to get in and out in a hurry. In fact, I'd advise you to triple-check your bag for everything you need before leaving Ravenclaw Tower.

Another cool thing about Ravenclaw is that our people are the most individual – some might even call them eccentrics. But geniuses are often out of step with ordinary folk, and unlike some other houses we could mention, we think you've got the right to wear what you like, believe what you want, and say what you feel. We aren't put off by people who march to a different tune; on the contrary, we value them!

Speaking of eccentrics, you'll like our Head of house, Professor Filius Flitwick. People often underestimate him, because he's really tiny (we think he's part goblin, but we've never been rude enough to ask) and he's got a squeaky voice, but he's the best and most knowledgeable Charms master alive in the world today. His office door is always open to any Ravenclaw with a problem, and if you're in a real state he'll get out these delicious little cupcakes he keeps in a tin in his desk drawer and make them do a little dance for you. In fact, it's worth pretending you're in a real state just to see them jive.

Ravenclaw house has an illustrious history. Most of the greatest wizarding inventors and innovators were in our house, including Perpetua Fancourt, the inventor of the lunascope, Laverne de Montmorency, a great pioneer of love potions, and Ignatia Wildsmith, the inventor of Floo powder.

Famous Ravenclaw Ministers for Magic include Millicent Bagnold, who was in power on the night that Harry Potter survived the Dark Lord's curse, and defended the wizarding celebrations all over Britain with the words, 'I assert our inalienable right to party'. There was also Minister Lorcan McLaird, who was a quite brilliant wizard, but preferred to communicate by puffing smoke out of the end of his wand—well, I did say we produce eccentrics.

In fact, we are also the house that gave the wizarding world Uric the Oddball, who used a jellyfish for a hat—he's the punch line of a lot of wizarding jokes.

As for our relationship with the other three houses: well, you've probably heard about the Slytherins. They're not all bad, but you'd do well to be on your guard until you know them well. They've got a long house tradition of doing whatever it takes to win – so watch out, especially in Quidditch matches and exams.

The Gryffindors are OK. If I had a criticism, I'd say Gryffindors tend to be show-offs. They're also much less tolerant than we are of people who are different; in fact, they've been known to make jokes about Ravenclaws who have developed an interest in levitation, or the possible magical uses of troll bogies, or ovomancy, which (as you probably know) is a method of divination using eggs.

Gryffindors haven't got our intellectual curiosity, whereas we've got no problem if you want to spend your days and nights cracking eggs in a corner of the common room and writing down your predictions according to the way the yolks fall. In fact, you'll probably find a few people to help you.

As for the Hufflepuffs, well, nobody could say they're not nice people—in fact, they're some of the nicest people in the school.

Oh yes, our house ghost is the Grey Lady. The rest of the school thinks she never speaks, but she'll talk to Ravenclaws—she's particularly useful if you're lost, or you've mislaid something.

I'm sure you'll have a good night. Our dormitories are in turrets off the main tower; our four-poster beds are covered in sky blue silk eiderdowns and the sound of the wind whistling around the windows is very relaxing.

And once again: well done on becoming a member of the cleverest, quirkiest and most interesting house at Hogwarts," he beamed at them.

Calypso didn't like him, he was too cheerful, but he seemed nice enough to ask for help and was free with information—she didn't think Hilliard needed to go into such detail even if it was interesting.

Cool fingers locked around her left wrist—Luna—and tugged her towards the stairs that the other girls in their year was climbing, and Calypso went willingly.

It seemed that the students were split by gender, year and then into pairs—it must have kismet that Calypso ended up sharing with Luna.

Neither of them had stuffed themselves at the feast and was able to do some unpacking before going to sleep.

Calypso made a point of unpacking Desdemona's things under her watchful amber gaze, her enchanted litterbox was placed beside the small desk on her side of the room, her bowls were placed near the door with dry food and water poured in them, and finally placed her small box of cat-toys next to the bedside table before she placed the Longbottom Lavender—the name she gave the plant that Neville gave her when she was four, she hadn't managed to kill it over the years thanks to Neville's advice—on top of the table.

Luna unpacked a dream-catcher windchime that she somehow attached to the window, a painted jewellery box that she carefully placed her radish-shaped earrings and butterbeer-cork necklace, and a soft animal that Calypso didn't recognise—its face was like a hippo's, it had a twisted golden horn between its droopy eyes, it looked scaled and was purple with a hump like a camel and a short tail.

"It's a Crumple-Horned Snorkack," Luna said knowledgeable when she caught Calypso looking. "Daddy got it made especially for me."

"Oh," Calypso said softly as she unpacked Toothless—she wasn't sure what to say to that. "It's a lovely shade of purple?"

It seemed to be an alright response as Luna beamed happily at her before placing the Crumple-Horned Snorkack on her bed before she dug out her night-gown—a cheerful shade of yellow—while Calypso dug out her own pyjamas—a dark grey set covered in silver stars and was long-sleeved.

Both girls changed before bidding the other goodnight and slipping into their beds, Desdemona claiming half of Calypso's pillow as soon as she settled.

* * *

 **AN: I took the speech that the Prefect says from Pottermore with a few changes, I based the appearance of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack from a pic I saw online, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	8. Chapter 8

The loud ring of the alarm clock rang through the air and Desdemona batted at Calypso's cheek until the eleven-year woke up with a groan.

"No, go away," Calypso attempted to push the kitten away only for the kitten to leap over her hand and to continue her assault. "It's too early for you."

Luna giggled from her bed as she watched and only stopped the alarm when Calypso gave up on sleep and sat up.

"You," Calypso glared at the smug kitten, "are a menace."

"Good morning," Luna chirped, and Calypso groaned.

"You're a morning-person," she accused with great offence and Luna smiled, it was very obvious that Calypso was not.

"I'll let you have the shower first," Luna decided, and Calypso groaned her thanks as she stumbled out of bed and towards her trunk, she grabbed her toilettes, towel, bathrobe and underwear before stumbling into the bathroom.

Luna smiled as she got out of her bed, she thought she would like sharing a room with Calypso and couldn't wait to tell her father that she already made a friend—he'll be so pleased.

* * *

Three-quarters-an-hour later, Luna and Calypso made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"We don't even have a day to settle in," Calypso grumbled to Luna. "Straight into classwork."

"At least this way we don't have enough time to be nervous about the first day of lessons," Luna commented, and Calypso agreed—if a bit grudgingly—as they entered the Great Hall.

Neville was already at the Gryffindor table, Calypso noted, and he was bowed over some parchment with a quill in hand—he was probably rewriting his potions' homework, so Calypso decided not to bother him.

"Oh, there's Ginny," Luna waved and freckled-faced Ginny Weasley waved back. "Do you want to meet her?"

"I don't mind," Calypso decided, she could hardly remember actually meeting her though she was sure she had at Cynthia's wedding, and Luna tugged her over—Calypso had a feeling this was going to become a thing between them, surprisingly she didn't mind despite her discomfort about being touched without her permission.

"Ginny," Luna beamed over the table at the red-head and Ginny smiled as she tucked her coppery locks behind one ear and closed the black diary in front of her.

"Hello Luna," Ginny greeted, brown eyes flicking over to Calypso. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Calypso," Luna introduced as she tugged Calypso even closer.

"I'm Dora's sister," Calypso added helpfully, and Ginny's eyes widened with a hint of recognition.

"Charlie's Dora?" Ginny asked in surprise and Calypso nodded with a hint of a smile, she wondered how Dora would react to be known as 'Charlie's Dora'. "I'm Ginny, Charlie's sister."

"I guessed," Calypso smiled as she shook Ginny's hand.

"It's the hair, right?" Ginny laughed softly, and Calypso shrugged as she glanced at the diary—for some reason, she wanted to grab it and hide it far away from Ginny—and Ginny's hand laid protectively over it.

"We should get breakfast," Luna decided and began to tug Calypso away before any tension could develop. "See you later, Ginny."

"Bye, Luna, Calypso," Ginny said before turning back to her diary, quill back in hand.

* * *

Calypso was just buttering her third slice of toast when a whined 'Hermione' caught her attention and she had the first sight of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

Ron Weasley was trailing behind Hermione, his coppery locks cut short and looked like he had simply run a hand through his hair as it stuck backwards. He towered over Hermione by at least a head, his freckled face was fixed in a pout while Hermione had a small scowl on her face as she walked towards the Gryffindor table with a determined stride.

Trailing behind them was a short boy, only a few inches taller than Hermione, and Calypso was once again struck with surprise at the sight of Harry Potter—much like she had been with Hermione Granger. He had olive-toned skin, something that shouldn't surprise her considering his grandmother was Greek and yet still did, his dark hair was messy and framed his face and his green eyes made him look exotic though they were dimmed slightly by the round-glasses he wore—he was also too thin, Calypso noted with a frown, something that was seemed painfully obvious under his slightly baggy uniform.

"Come on," Ron continued as Hermione took a seat and pointedly began to unpack some books. "You can't ignore us all day."

"I think she's going to try," Harry quietly said as he sat across from her and Ron pouted as he sat next to him.

"Miss Tonks?" a rather high male voice startled her, and Calypso blinked down at her Head of House. "Your timetable."

"Thank you, Professor," Calypso said as she took the piece of parchment.

"You'll be wanting to get your books soon, girls," Flitwick said as he handed Luna her timetable. "The halls can get quite crowded and even more confusing when you want to get to class."

Luna was going to thank the professor when a loud female voice echoed through the hall.

"RONALD WEASLEY!" screeched the Howler. "HOW _DARE_ YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTELY _DISGUSTED_! I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU! I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT GONE!"

Ron Weasley was hunched in his seat and Harry Potter was wincing next to him.

"—LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME! WE DID NOT BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS—YOU AND HARRY COULD HAVE BOTH _DIED_! YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN _INQUIRY_ AT WORK, AND IT'S ENTIRELY _YOUR FAULT_! IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME," the red Howler then turn towards where Ginny was sitting, who blanched under her blush. "Oh, and Ginny dear, congratulations on making Gryffindor—your father and I are _so_ proud."

Calypso watched as the red envelope tore itself apart over Ron's breakfast as if to add insult to injury.

"Well," Luna said as laughs rang out through the hall, "are all breakfasts this exciting?"

"Only once or twice a month, Miss Lovegood," Professor Flitwick told them with a small amused smile. "You can always count on the Weasley twins to upset their mother," he continued onwards, "they've just never done it this early in the year—I suspect they'll be most put-out."

* * *

Their first ever lesson at Hogwarts was Potions, something that Calypso was in two minds about. On the one hand, she was rather a dab hand at Potions—if only thanks to Cynthia—while on the other hand she had never had to deal with Severus Snape as her teacher.

Neville had written last year on how horrible Professor Snape was and how much he scared him, and Dora found it fun to tease her about the horrible 'Dungeon Bat', but Calypso was hopeful that even if he didn't like her then at least Cynthia's teaching should help her.

Luna and herself collected their books for the day, their potions' kit and cauldrons before descending into the dungeons to look for the Potions' classroom, and found themselves to be amongst the first there.

Luna almost skipped to the front of the class and Calypso slowly followed her as she eyed the various jarred body-parts of some poor creatures shelved on the walls—it was rather fascinating, she admitted, in a morbid way that had made people look at her oddly in her past life as she was considered a morbid child by some.

They unpacked their book, parchment, quill and potions' kit onto their chosen workplace, placing their cauldrons on the embedded burners before Calypso shrugged out of her outer robe.

She placed in on the back of her chair before rolling up the sleeves slightly, so they wouldn't dip into whatever potion they were making before sitting in her chair and getting her parchment ready for notes.

Luna eyed her a moment before copying her, even tying up her hair in a pony-tail which made Calypso smile in quiet approval—lab safety was very important in Potions after all.

"What potion do you think we'll be learning?" Luna asked curiously as she inked her purple quill and wrote the day's date at the top of her parchment.

"Probably the Cure for Boils," Calypso said as she thumbed through her book. "My cousin, Neville, said that was the first potion he learnt—or attempted to learn, Neville's not the best at potions."

As they had been setting up, most of the room had filled with their fellow Ravenclaws and the Gryffindors they were paired with.

A blonde boy with a large camera hanging around his neck entered the room with just moments to spare as the doors slammed shut behind him. He shot the closed doors a curious look before taking the free seat beside Ginny Weasley just as Professor Snape stepped out of the shadows and stared around at them with dark eyes.

Snape was a tall thin man with almost shoulder-length black hair that he had tied back in a simple low pony-tail—a hairstyle that she suspected in only wore when dealing with potions as he had his hair loose during the brief moment she saw him at the Feast—and he wore only black which made his already pale skin look almost sallow.

He almost glided to his desk and picked up the register with one long fingered hand, and began to call out each name in a low and deep tone.

"Calypso Tonks," he called, and she replied she was there as he paused to look at her with dark eyes—there was seemingly no difference between the colour of his iris and his pupil, something that made his eyes appear to be almost like blackholes in a way that was unsettling when under their focus. "Let us hope you show more promise than your sister did."

Calypso said nothing, she was aware that Dora worked hard to pull her grade up enough in Fifth-year, so she could attend Snape's NEWT's class as her performance before had been lacking—if she hadn't needed a NEWT in Potions to become an Auror then Dora admitted she wouldn't have bothered as she hadn't really like Snape or his teching-style.

"Ginny Weasley," he finally called, and she replied to him, he added; "Another Weasley."

She blushed deeply, and she looked down at her hands—Calypso wasn't sure if she was embarrassed or angered by his words and tone.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Professor Snape began, a speech he had probably spoken hundreds of times before. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

He glanced around the room with a look that said he didn't expect much before jabbing his wand towards the blackboard making spidery writing appear.

"The Cure for Boils," he began, "is a rather simple potion to brew, something even the most inexperienced shouldn't be able ruin as long as they pay attention and read the recipe properly—though there is always at least one that surprises me with how abysmal they are at simple instructions."

He raised as single eyebrow when nobody moved; "Well, begin."

"I'll get the ingredients," Luna offered as she stood, and Calypso nodded as she decided to fill their cauldrons with distilled water, the baseline for every potion, and placed them back on the burners when she was done.

Luna returned swiftly with a jar of snake fangs, a jar of stewed horned slugs and four porcupine quills which she placed between them on the workbench.

Calypso checked both Snape's recipe and the one in the book before taking out six snake fangs out of the jar and placing them in her mortar, Luna patiently waited to take her own six fangs from the jar, and both worked on crushing the fangs into a fine powder.

Snape was correct that the Cure for Boils were a simple potion as it only had three ingredients—four if you counted the water though most people didn't—and like all potions, as long as you followed the instructions correctly you really couldn't ruin it—unless you were Neville, she thought to herself with a hint of fond disbelief.

Four measures of the powder were poured into the cauldron and with a jab of her wand to the burner it set a light and began to heat the mixture.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, she waved her wand above the cauldron—she would now leave it to brew for 33-45 minutes, she set the timer to remind her when to check it at forty minutes as that's her preferred time for this potion.

Potions had taught her patience as it required a great deal of it, you couldn't rush potions as it all it would do was ruin it and waste time and ingredients—something that Cynthia would never allow to happen as potions were her business, she took potion-making very seriously and taught Calypso to be serious as well.

* * *

After a rather successful Potions class, it was time for the lesson that Calypso dreaded—Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"He's an arrogant braggart that probably doesn't even know what to do when faced with Cornish Pixies," Calypso said to Luna as they were nearing the classroom.

Luna smiled; "At least it would be interesting to witness."

Calypso snorted in agreement as they entered the room before pausing in shock.

"Oh dear," Luna said faintly. "It seems the Cornish Pixies have already attacked."

The room was wrecked, parchment was scattered everywhere, and ink had been splattered across the floor and walls, desks had been knocked over and on the teacher's desk was a cage filled with bristling Cornish Pixies.

"I was only joking…." Calypso said in disbelief as she looked around at the mess.

The door to Lockhart's office slowly opened and Lockhart stuck his golden head out, he looked around with wide blue eyes. His gaze paused once on the cage of Pixies—they either scowled, shook their fist or stuck out their tongue at Lockhart—before turning his gaze to where Luna and herself stood frozen and he beamed at them.

"Girls," he said brightly as he fully stepped out of his office. "Just in time to help me clear up this mess, my last class got a little out of hand," he chuckled as if he was embarrassed.

Calypso attempted to leave, but Luna's hand clasped tight around her wrist and stopped her. It seemed that Calypso wasn't getting out of this—darn and damnation.

"Of course, Professor," Luna smiled absently as she took in the mess.

"We should have run when we had the chance," Calypso whispered to Luna as she bent down to pick up the scattered parchment.

"It's too late now," Luna didn't sigh, she didn't need to as it was obvious in her tone.

* * *

Lockhart was a worse teacher than Calypso had thought possible. He oozed irritating smugness, he spoke with false superiority, he delighted in the awed stares he was able to draw from most of the girls—frankly, Calypso was almost ashamed of being a girl when surrounded by such unashamed fan-girls—and was caught up in his own self-made legend.

Calypso had never taken such a stupid quiz in her life, and she had done a few quizzes in Teen Witch Weekly with Dora!

Calypso had wanted to stand up and leave when she first read the farce of a quiz, it was only Luna's strong grip around her wrist that stopped her—it seemed the blonde had known exactly what Calypso had been thinking before she even moved.

Lockhart also seemed to dislike her, perhaps he remembered her from the bookshop? Perhaps it was the way she made a mockery of his quiz? Perhaps it was her pointed question on the whereabouts of his wand? —she would later learn that the Pixies' had seen fit to throw his wand out of the window, probably the best place for it in her opinion as he was already a menace without it.

Frankly, Calypso didn't know, nor did she cared as she loathed the man she had waste hours of her week with under the guise of learning.

Several more hours as well considering the moron had deemed it fit to gift her with detention—bleh.

She was going to die because of exposure to that level of arrogant stupidity, she just knew it.

* * *

Filius Flitwick didn't know if he should be surprised or not that one of his new 'Claws had earned a detention of their first day.

On of the one hand, First-years generally didn't get detention on their first day while on the other hand, said First-year was the sister of Nymphadora Tonks.

Calypso Tonks stood before his desk and looked very much like her sister with that rebellious and defiant look on her face despite the lack of bright colouring that her elder sister indulged in.

(She also looked very much like her mother, Andromeda Tonks nee Black, her Aunt Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black and her Great-Great-Aunt Cassiopeia Black, he privately noted, and he wasn't surprised by the Heir ring that graced her right hand)

"Please explain, Miss Tonks," Filius didn't sigh though he dearly wanted too.

"That moronic flobberworm-brained arrogant twit doesn't appreciate anyone that doesn't fawn over his looks or fall for his false and self-made legend," Miss Tonks told him without hesitation or shame in a show of bravery—perhaps foolhardy as she was speaking about a fellow teacher with him—that should have placed her in Gryffindor. "He doesn't teach, he uses the lessons—and I use the term lessons for lack of a better word—to self-promote himself, his books, and has shown himself to be completely useless with anything that doesn't have to do with his favourite subject; himself.

I'm surprised that there is actual space in the room considering the size of his ego, his arrogance is almost a physical force that makes me feel sick, and I want to punch him in his perfect white teeth in the hopes of shutting him up."

Filius did sigh then and rubbed his temples as a beginning of a headache started to throb; "Please tell me you didn't say that to him."

"And be lynched by his small army of fan-girls?" Miss Tonks said in offence, "I'm not stupid," before adding after a long pause. "It would also be rude."

Filius had the idea that Calypso Tonks' idea of rudeness was very different from everyone else's, something he was sure was going to cause him nothing but trouble and more headaches in the future.

If Pomona had to deal with something like this when it came to her Miss Tonks, then Filius may need to ask for advice when it came to handling his Miss Tonks.

"Assaulting a teacher is grounds for being expelled, Miss Tonks," never had Filius had to say those words before.

"But he doesn't know how to teach," was her protest that Filius agreed with from what he was already hearing through the rumour mill.

"He still is a teacher," Filius told her. "And thus, is someone who you should respect."

"How am I meant to respect a man that was defeated by Cornish Pixies?" Miss Tonks asked incredulously, and Filius winced at the question as it was a very good question.

"If you can't respect him or even pretend to," Filius began wearily. "Then keep your head down and hopefully you won't have to serve anymore detentions with him."

Miss Tonks made a face, but grudgingly nodded.

"Please go and do your homework, I'll come and collect you when its time for your detention," Filius sighed as Miss Tonks nodded and left with a soft 'bye Professor, sorry Professor'.

The next seven-years were going to be interesting, Filius knew.

* * *

 **AN: I hope you liked this chapter, I actually enjoyed writing it so it's already a good chapter in my mind. Please review and tell me what you think.**


	9. Chapter 9

Calypso didn't even hesitate to make her way towards Luna and flop down into the chair next to her and placed her forehead on the table with a groan.

"I see the meeting with Professor Flitwick went well," Luna said without looking up from her potions' book.

"I think I did something stupid," Calypso admitted.

"Oh?" Luna prompted with some interest.

"I just told Professor Flitwick what I really think of Lockhart," Calypso admitted almost sheepishly—in hindsight it was a stupid thing to do, but Lockhart really annoyed her, and she really disliked him, and it just came pouring out.

She didn't regret anything she said, it was all true, but she regretted just ranting them at Professor Flitwick—her Head of House must think her a terror now.

Luna slowly placed her book down and looked down at the back of her friend's head in mild disbelief.

"Did you call him a 'moronic flobberworm-brained arrogant twit'?" Luna asked seriously, and Calypso nodded. "Did you talk about his inability to teach?" again Calypso nodded. "Did you threaten to punch him?"

Calypso made a choked sound as she nodded again—she had threatened to punch a teacher in front of another teacher! How could she be so stupid?!

"How did Professor Flitwick react?" Luna asked after a long pause as that last titbit sunk in.

"He told me that assaulting a teacher will cause me to be expelled," Calypso told her, and Luna waited for a moment.

"Anything else?" Luna prompted her, and Calypso moved her head, so she could see Luna and Luna could see Calypso's thoughtful frown.

"And if I can't respect him or pretend too then I should keep my head down," Calypso said after a moment and Luna raised one pale eyebrow.

"Then it seems Professor Flitwick either agrees with you or thinks your detention with Lockhart is punishment enough," Luna decided after a moment.

"Or both," Calypso added thoughtfully.

"Or both," Luna agreed easily as she returned to her potions homework.

"Huh," Calypso said before she sat up and began to unpack her bag, she had homework to do before her detention with Lockhart.

It was slightly reassuring to know she wasn't the only one that thought so poorly of Lockhart, that the teachers could also see what an arrogant idiotic arse he was.

"Thanks Luna," Calypso said after a moment and Luna just smiled as she continued with her potions' homework.

* * *

It seemed that Calypso wasn't alone in detention as Professor McGonagall arrived with Harry Potter in tow just as she and Professor Flitwick arrived at Lockhart's office.

"Filius?" Professor McGonagall said in some surprise, raising an eyebrow at the unmistakeable form of Calypso Tonks—she was the only student that was so obviously of the Black bloodline after all, and she looked much like her mother, and unfortunately, like her aunt Bellatrix Lestrange in turn though thankfully no-one had thought to bully her about her obvious relation to that mad witch.

"Minerva," Professor Flitwick greeted easily. "I see Mr Potter is joining Miss Tonks in her detention."

"So, I see," Professor McGonagall acknowledged curiously, Professor Flitwick ignored said curiosity as he knocked on the door.

Lockhart almost burst through the door and beamed at Harry and wrapped an arm around his shoulders—ignoring the panicked and annoyed look on Harry's face—as he tugged him closer before he almost coolly looked down at Calypso, who gave him a look of dislike back—their dislike was mutual it seemed.

"Come you young scallywags," Lockhart said brightly, that foolish too white smile on his face. "Don't worry Professors, I'll straighten these two out."

Calypso and Harry both turned pleading looks on their Heads of House, and both ignored them as they left together—it seemed the two preteens were on their own.

Calypso scowled and Harry grimaced as they entered the room, it was covered in pictures of Lockhart and there was a table set up that was almost overflowing with signed pictures and envelopes.

"You'll both be helping me to attend to my fans," Lockhart spoke like it was treat they should both appreciate.

Calypso felt vaguely ill as she sat down, and a stack of winking photos was placed before her with a stack of envelopes awaiting addresses.

Thankfully, it seemed that Harry interested Lockhart more than Calypso did as she was able to quietly write the addresses, place a picture in the envelope before sealing it and putting it to one side while Harry had to keep up a string of noises that was meant to show he was listening as he did the same on the other side of the table while Lockhart sat between the two as he happily prattled on while doing the same.

It was boring work, it made her hand cramp and she was certain that the detention should have ended hours ago when Harry startled her out of her daze with a loud 'What?'.

Her dark eyes snapped over to him as he looked around in confusion and even slight fear while Lockhart prattled on about something or another that Calypso had long tuned out.

"Oh, is that the time?" Lockhart said in some surprise as he looked at his watch. "I suppose time really flies when you are having fun, off to bed with you two now—don't expect this treat every time you end up in trouble."

Calypso and Harry both muttered something along the lines of a bye towards the blonde ingrate as they left.

"What was that?" Calypso asked as soon as the door closed behind them, and Harry turned towards her with an attempt of an innocent look on his face—it didn't work on her.

"What was what?" he asked in false confusion and Calypso scowled at him.

"You know what I mean," she accused, and Harry sighed as he looked away—perhaps he had seen the stubborn look of her face, perhaps he realised she wasn't going to let it go, Calypso didn't care, she wanted questions.

"I thought I heard something, a voice," he admitted lowly and Calypso bit her lip.

"What did it say?" she asked as something like dread and fear began to settle in her stomach.

"You believe me?" Harry looked shocked as he stared at her and she nodded shortly as she gestured him to continue. "Something about it being too long, about killing something."

Calypso swallowed thickly.

"Then I suppose we should be careful when walking the corridors," she said faintly, and Harry nodded after a moment with a grim look on his face, it settled easily on his face as if it was a familiar expression. "Goodnight."

"Be careful," Harry offered in return and Calypso nodded before she turned on her heel and fled towards the safety of the Ravenclaw tower.

Suddenly Calypso felt sick for a different reason than Lockhart's arrogance, she felt sick with dread and fear as she realised dimly this was the beginning, the beginning of what, Calypso didn't know—couldn't remember—and that frightened her even more.

She hadn't really tried to remember what was coming—her mind stuck on Dora, and her dying—and that was foolish, stupid, irresponsible, and now she was in the middle of something she didn't properly remember.

It had something to do with Slytherin, she knew that. It was highly dangerous, she knew that too. Harry Potter was going to involve himself, she also knew that though that seemed to be a given.

Something nagged Calypso about Ginny's diary, but she couldn't remember what—stupid, stupid, why hadn't she made sure to remember? Why had she allowed herself to get so caught up with other things when she should have made sure to remember? What was the point of foreknowledge if she didn't remember it enough for it to be useful? What if Dora died because she didn't remember? How could she live with herself if it was her fault that her sister died? What if she got other people killed because of her stupidity?

That night she cuddled with Desdemona, reassured by having another living thing in her arms, and Desdemona didn't even attempt to scratch her—she must have felt how frightened and unnerved Calypso was—and only gave her a token bat with her paw as hot tears ran down Calypso's face silently—she didn't want to worry Luna after all.

* * *

It is said that one should have a more scientific mind to become a master of Transfiguration, Calypso disagreed with that thought considering the most well-known Master of Transfiguration was Albus Dumbledore and his mind was as creative as it was scientific.

Calypso considered herself creative—not to the same degree as Luna, but many didn't have the natural creativity that Luna had in spades—but she had always had more then a passing interesting in science—something she hadn't had the incline to pursuit in her past life, but was encouraged to do in this life by several members of her family—and that aided her well in both Transfiguration and Potions.

Charms allowed the caster more creativity than Transfiguration and thus it was no surprise that Luna continued to come First in the Year when it came to Charms.

History was a severe let down, she had underestimated how boring Binns could be and how easily he could ruin one of her favourite subjects. History would have to be self-taught, Calypso had realised grimly after the first class, and then proceeded to ignore anything that Binns said as she read her own history books or did her homework during class-time while Luna spent her time sketching out scenes from history as her own way of learning the subject—Calypso particularly liked Luna's sketch of Uric the Oddball though the detail of the duel between Emeric the Evil and Egbert the Egregious was amazing.

Astronomy was a subject that frankly bored Calypso though thankfully Luna seemed to enjoy it and was happy to help her with it.

DADA continued to be a test of patience, her detentions with Lockhart continued for a whole week and she spent those hours glancing up at Harry Potter, who would continue to be distracted as he attempted to hear that mysterious voice again.

Rumours flew about part way through September as the Slytherin Quidditch team showed off their new brooms and Draco Malfoy strutted around the castle like he owned it—it was sickening and made Calypso more determined to avoid her cousin, something she had been quite well so far though she suspected it was a matter of time before he decided to confront his blood-traitor cousin who had 'stolen' the heirship of House Black from him.

Flying was a lesson she both dreaded—because she hated heights, she was afraid of heights—and excitement as it was still a very witchy thing to do—she was muggle-enough to be delighted by the thought of riding a flying broom.

Thankfully there was none of the excitement that Neville's flying lesson had to deal with, and Calypso was deemed a passable flyer—she'd never play Quidditch, but she could fly on a broom with moderate skill. Something that surprised Madame Hooch as Calypso was rather graceful on the ground while clumsy in the air while Nymphadora had been the opposite, clumsy on the ground and graceful in the air.

Before Calypso knew it, it was Halloween morning and she woke with a feeling of dread.

* * *

"You seemed to be inflicted by Wrackspurts," Luna observed over breakfast, her long pale blonde hair had been pulled back in a lopsided bun and her wand had been tucked behind her left ear in a way that was endearingly Luna.

"I feel like something bad is going to happen," Calypso confessed as she poked the left-over yolk of her fried egg—she never ate the yolk of a fried egg—with her fork and resting her chin on her fist—she had spent a good amount of time braiding her hair into a braided bun that morning to give herself something to occupy her mind with.

"It seems you are not the only one," Luna commented as she glanced towards where Harry Potter was sat hunched in his seat flanked protectively by Ron and Hermione—Ron glaring at anyone that looked like they were going to say something to Harry while Hermione gave them a stern look that quailed even the older years.

"Halloween probably has never been a good day for him," Calypso said with some sympathy making Luna nod in almost sad agreement.

"The feast is meant to be rather special this year," Luna offered. "That should keep the Wrackspurts away for a while."

"True," Calypso smiled at her friend, perhaps her best friend. "Thank you, Luna."

* * *

The feast was amazing, and Calypso almost forgot about the feeling of dread she had woken up with as they left the Great Hall.

It came slamming back into her soon enough though as the crowd of student around her paused in shock and horror, Luna let out a small wounded sound at the sight of Mrs Norris hanging stiffly—Luna was one of the few that liked the cantankerous cat—and Calypso absently grabbed her hand without removing her gaze from the sinisterly glistening words painted across the wall.

 _The Chamber of Secrets have been opened…. Enemies of the Heir beware._

Calypso realised with a small lurch that the words weren't written in paint, but actual blood. Paint didn't glisten in the candle-light like blood did after all, and was never that shade of red.

Draco Malfoy pushed himself through the crowd and into the circle of space that encased the horrible scene and the frozen shocked forms of the Golden Trios, Hermione and Ron frozen in the position like they were attempting to tug Harry away—Harry's green eyes barely moved from the message on the wall.

"Enemies of the Heir," he grinned then, dark and cruel delight appearing in his cold grey eyes. "You're next Mudbloods!"

"Draco," she called out then, her voice sounding almost faint compared to the blood rushing in her ears, and watched almost coolly as her cousin turned to her in outrage which turned into deep childish hatred and envy at the sight of her—she didn't feel quite herself and couldn't bring herself to care that she had just brought her cousin's attention to her in a way he'd never let go. "Do shut up."

Wounded pride and outrage warred on his sharp features, but he was cut off by Filch's arrival.

The pained sound he let out when he saw his beloved cat almost made Calypso sympathetic—sympathy was not an emotion she was that used to despite her encouraged desire to become a Healer—which quickly turned in grief-stricken rage at the sight of Harry so close to what he presumed was his dead pet.

"You! You killed my cat!" he lunged with a howl, hands outstretched to wrap around Harry's thin neck and Ron swiftly pulled Harry back, so the squib only caught Harry's uniform. "I'll kill you!"

"Argus!" Professor Dumbledore thundered as he and the rest of the teachers arrived on the scene. "We do not lay our hands on our students!"

"But he killed my cat! He killed Mrs Norris!" Filch shouted, tears falling down his ruddy face as he shook a shocked Harry at Dumbledore.

"We don't know that," Dumbledore's voice was almost gentle as he reached out to the caretaker. "Let him go and we can get to the bottom of this."

For a moment Filch looked like he was going to refuse before he let Harry go, the short preteen stumbling back into Ron who placed a steady hand on his shoulder while Hermione latched onto Harry's arm, and slumped under Dumbledore's sympathetic hand with a great sniff.

"Students if you please return to your common rooms," Dumbledore's voice was very grave as it echoed through the almost silent corridor. "Misters Potter and Weasley as well as Miss Granger, you will need to wait a moment."

Dumbledore reached out and unhooked the stiff form of Mrs Norris—Filch flinched at the sight—before gesturing the Golden trio, Filch, McGonagall and Snape to follow him as Lockhart brightly offered his office with a disturbing amount of excitement.

Dumbledore nodded gravely as he followed the brightly coloured unsympathetic arrogant twit with his own small following behind him.

Slowly with the prodding of Prefects and teachers, the students left the corridor with whispers following in their wake.

Calypso left the corridor as she was told, but moved towards Lockhart's office with a determined stride with Luna trailing behind her in a daze, their hands interlocked tightly between them.

* * *

Ron and Hermione had barely finished telling Harry to keep his trap shut about the voice he heard when his detention 'friend', Tonks, appeared with another first year in her wake.

"Harry," Tonks greeted shortly, and he was only just then aware he had no idea what her first name was, and her dark eyes were narrowed solely on him. "How did you find Mrs Norris? Was it that voice again?"

Ron and Hermione shot him looks which Harry ignored, Tonks had believed him about the voice without question before all of this and he didn't see the point of lying to her now.

"Yes," he admitted and watched as she bit her lip, the pale blonde behind her clutching at her hand. "It was talking about killing someone, about blood."

"And you decided to follow it?" Tonks' tone was incredulously, and she was given him a look that questioned his intelligence—a look he often saw her direct at Lockhart albeit without the intense dislike that Tonks held Lockhart in —and Harry wanted to bristle, but he understood it had been a stupid thing to do.

"Is she dead?" the blonde asked almost weakly, and Harry softened as he took in how obviously shaken the young girl was.

"No," Harry shook his head, "Dumbledore said Mrs Norris is just petrified."

"Oh," the blonde let out a little relieved breath.

"Petrification?" Tonks seemed to mutter to herself. "Only strong dark magic or a creature could do something like that."

"That's what Dumbledore said," Harry nodded, and Tonks wasn't surprised as it was well-known that Dumbledore was a genius and already knew that.

"We will need to be more careful," Tonks said as her hand tightened around her friend's, a flash of fear crossing her face. "This attack may not be a one-off."

"You think they'll be more?" Ron blurted out and Tonks sent him a bemused look as if she was confused by his shock.

"Of course," she spoke matter-of-factly. "Whoever did this probably won't be satisfied with getting a cat, the message was meant to strike fear amongst the students, and frankly with the less-then-fond feelings about Mrs Norris amongst the students, her petrification won't spook them much."

"Yes," Hermione muttered, biting her lip worriedly. "I'm afraid you are probably right, Calypso."

It took a moment to connect the name Calypso to Tonks, and Harry wondered how Hermione was already acquainted with her.

"Do you think they'll target muggle-borns like Malfoy thinks?" Harry asked the young Ravenclaw, giving Hermione a protective look and watching as Ron stepped closer to her as if to protect her from the unseen danger around them.

"If they are using Slytherin's legendary Chamber of Secrets as the supposed source of the attack, then yes," Calypso—it was almost odd to use her first name when he thought of her—nodded. "But they could target anyone, anyone that crosses their path or angers them."

"So, Harry's a goner then," Ron muttered, and Hermione hit him with a mild shriek of outrage.

"How dare you joke about that Ronald Weasley!" Hermione said shrilly.

"It's not a joke!" Ron attempted to defend himself, raising his arms to shield his body as Hermione continued to hit him. "We both know that Harry's worse than a crup with a bone when it comes to stuff like this!"

"I'll be sure to order you some flowers then," Calypso muttered to him in an undertone as they watched Hermione only hit Ron harder for his words. "Which are you favourites?"

"Lilies," he answered without thinking, only to blush slightly, and he was relieved when he just caught Calypso nodding thoughtfully without a word—it was a bit embarrassing really, that your mum's namesake was your favourite flower if only because they were her namesake.

"Should we stop her?" the pale blonde asked curiously.

"I don't think we can, Luna," Calypso told her friend without taking her gaze off the now yelping Ron as Hermione continued to badger him with blows.

"Tonks! Lovegood!" called out a male voice and a fifth-year Ravenclaw rushed towards them with his prefect badge catching the light. "There you two are!"

There was simple relief on his face as he took in the two first years as he reached out to place one hand on each of their shoulders—uncaring of Calypso slightly cringe away from the reaching hand.

"I was worried when I didn't see you," the Prefect told them, light brown eyes checking over the girls to make sure they were unharmed. "After what happened, you shouldn't be alone."

"But we aren't alone," Luna Lovegood spoke him as she gestured towards Harry and his friends with her free hand and the Prefect seemed to the notice the trio of Gryffindors for the first time.

The elder Ravenclaw grimaced and tried to subtly pull the girls away from them in a way that made Harry's stomach drop slightly—he could see the distrust in those light brown eyes when they landed on him and realised that the Prefect thought Harry had something to do with Mrs Norris' attack.

Calypso was scowling at the Prefect while Luna had a mild frown as she stared up at him in some confusion like she didn't understand what he was doing or why.

"Professor Flitwick wants everyone back in the common room," the Prefect told them, pointedly moving between Harry and the girls in a way that made Hermione's mouth drop open in disbelieving outrage. "Come on."

"Fine," Calypso almost snapped before she pointedly turned towards Harry and the others. "Bye, Harry, Ron, Hermione."

"It was nice meeting you," Luna added with a seemingly oblivious smile as she gave them a wave.

The Prefect hurriedly herded the two girls along after that, casting distrustful glances over his shoulder as he did.

"They think I did it," Harry told his friends, feeling a bit sick.

"Don't be thick," Ron threw an arm around Harry's shoulder. "No one can really believe that."

Hermione just bit her lip, she had seen what Harry had seen already, she had seen the distrust in that stranger's eyes, the distrust that Ron was pointedly ignoring in the hopes of cheering Harry up.

"That Prefect did," Harry pointed out dully, and Ron grimaced.

"But Calypso doesn't," Ron pointed out in a falsely bright manner. "From what my cousins say, she almost as smart as Hermione."

"Calypso knows your cousins?" Hermione asked curiously and in an obvious change of subject, wrapping her arm comforting and comfortably around Harry's to prod them towards the Gryffindor Tower.

"Yeah," Ron nodded, relieved at the change of subject that would hopefully keep Harry's mind off the stupid Prefect—he thought Ravenclaws were meant to be smart. "My cousin, Jared, married her cousin, Cynthia, though Cynthia's meant to a distance cousin, you'd never know with how close they are. So, Calypso often had playdates with their kids as they grew up—the eldest, Newt? He'll be coming to Hogwarts in two years, I think."

* * *

"I don't want there to be another attack," Luna confessed from her bed as she cuddled Desdemona. "I'm afraid."

Calypso left her bed and crawled onto Luna's, she placed one arm around her and the blonde cuddled close to Calypso.

"So am I," Calypso admitted softly. "But I don't think there is anything we can do right now apart from being very careful."

"Do you think Harry will do something?" Luna asked curiously and Calypso grimaced.

"Probably," she admitted. "You heard Ron after all."

"Yes," Luna sighed. "Do you think Mrs Norris will be alright?"

"The Professors will figure out how to fix her," Calypso reassured her friend. "But it may take some time, I hear only Mandrakes can cure Petrification and they take most of a year to mature enough."

"Poor Mr Filch," Luna added, and Calypso grimaced again, it wasn't words that would cross Calypso's lips, but Luna was always the better person between them so of course she would feel sympathy for their cantankerous and bitter caretaker.

Calypso may have felt some sympathy for him, but he ruined it when he attempted to kill Harry without any proof he had something to do with it. And Calypso had no doubt he would have attempted to kill Harry if it wasn't for Ron yanking him back so Filch's hands didn't clasp around his best friend's neck.

Blacks knew all about rage, they were born with the fire of Wrath in the souls after all, but they always made sure to get the right person to unleash their Wrath upon. They hunted for the one responsible for their pain, their rage, and then unleashed it upon them with a fury that almost always made them incapable of reason or mercy.

The Blacks had never been considered a merciful family after all.

* * *

 **AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I made it a bit longer than usual.  
**

 **I was wondering if any of you had any thoughts about where Calypso will be going in her next life? I already have a few ideas, but they are always changing. I'm also always curious about how you are liking this new series.**

 **So review and tell me what you think, thank you for reading.**


	10. Chapter 10

The mood in the castle was subdued as the students went about their day.

Few could claim to honestly like Mrs Norris as too many students had been caught breaking the rules by the thin cat and fewer still could claim to like Filch, but the attack had unsettled people.

Some thought it was an ill-thought out prank, others argued that not even the Weasley Twins would go that far for a prank. And if it had been a prank, wouldn't Mrs Norris be walking around the castle ready to catch any troublemakers already?

What made people really discard the idea that it was just a prank where how serious the teachers were whenever they saw them, the slightly worry in their eyes when they dismissed a class, the relief as they read the register and all the students were accounted for.

Those things only heightened the unease in the students who had already started to get crowded together.

Things would get worse, Calypso knew, if there were more attacks happened like she suspected would.

* * *

Calypso walked into the library that day with Luna's hand in her own, the link comforting to the both of them, and noticed Neville sitting awkwardly with the Golden trio.

He glanced up with no-small amount of relief and waved them over which made Calypso frown as she walked over with a small scowl.

"Are you bullying my cousin?" Calypso almost demanded as she put a protective hand of Neville's broadening shoulder.

"What?" Ron spluttered in shock, Harry's eyes widened in surprise and Hermione waved her hands as if to say Calypso had misunderstood the situation.

"No! No, of course not," Hermione was almost horrified. "I was looking for Hogwarts: A History, but they were all checked out and Neville said you know a bit about the Chamber so."

"I'm alright, Caly," Neville had a small embarrassed smile on his face as he patted her hand.

"I see," Calypso let out a breath of relief as Luna and herself took a seat at the table. "So, you want to know about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded with her two friends making Calypso give a small frown towards Ron.

"Have you read any of Aunt Lucretia's books?" she asked him slightly disapproving, and Ron shook his head with a sheepish look.

"I don't have any head for her books," Ron admitted rather easily making Calypso frown and shake her head.

"I don't know why I'm surprised," Calypso sighed making Ron scowl before Calypso straightened up with thoughtful and serious frown. "Let's see, as you know Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor and Helga Hufflepuff were friends and decided to build the world's first ever school for magic.

Back then magic was taught within the family, through an apprenticeship or trail-and-error when it came to muggle-borns. The thought of going to a school was a revolutionary idea that no one had truly considered before, families hesitated when it came to send their children to strangers to learn magic and others were worried about what these teachers would teach their children.

But despite the doubts and worries, these four-amazing people had created the first school of magic, a safe place for everyone to learn the magical arts, and it soon became tradition to send your child to Hogwarts.

For several years the four worked together as friends, until Slytherin started to question if they should allow muggle-borns to learn at Hogwarts."

"So, Slytherin was purist," Ron snorted in disgust and Calypso glanced at him. "Figures."

"That's one-way of looking at it, it is also the most commonly held view, but some historians believe Slytherin had logical and reasonable reasons when it came to banning muggle-borns," she told him, and Hermione leaned forward with a frown, looking curious despite herself.

"What were these 'logical' reasons?" Hermione asked, and Calypso bit her lip as she thought back to what Aunt Lucretia had written in her book on the Founders.

"It was rare for a peasant muggle family to be educated outside what is need to continue their living, most peasant muggle-borns first came to Hogwarts without the knowledge of how to read or write thus taking up time and resources to get them up to an acceptable before they can truly teach them anything, the standard of hygiene was very low which brought many illnesses and parasites to Hogwarts, and there was rumbles of anti-witch sentiment spreading through the forming Christian kingdoms.

There are accounts of muggle-borns being killed by their villages or even family for being a witch, accounts of muggle-borns inviting their magical-born friends to their homes and standing by as said friend was lynched by a mob of villagers, and of course the tenth century was when Obscurus began to become known," Calypso said thoughtfully.

"Obscurus?" Harry frowned in confusion as the other three magically raised children shivered in mild fear while Calypso frowned almost sadly.

"Obscurus, it's rare now-a-days thankfully," Calypso began almost softly. "It was, I suppose, something like a magical illness that was common with muggle-borns back then though the odd pure-blood or half-blood could become one," she sighed, "an Obscurus is the manifestation of repressed energy, repressed by the magical child almost subconsciously—often because of physical or mental abuse.

People often do not react well to things they don't understand, they can lash out in fear and anger. Muggle-borns' families did that quite often as Christianity spread fear about witchcraft and the devil, their magical child would have bursts of accidentally magic and they would lash out in the hopes of making it going away, hoping perhaps to beat the devilry from them I suppose.

These children, abused either physically or mentally or both, would begin to supress their magic in the hopes of appeasing their family, but magic can not be repressed, it can not be ignored, and it longed to be used so much it would begin to separate from the child, forming a dark parasitic force that would lash out with violent and destructive fury.

It would overtake the child, almost ripping them apart as it raged before allowing the child to reform and witness what they had done. The harm or deaths that they had caused in their rage, in their fear, which of course only made them more fearful and more determined to supress their magic.

Eventually, it would kill the child as they could no longer cope with the stress it caused as their magic ripped them apart or the child died after being locked away far from anyone they could harm, from starvation and dehydration usually."

"That's horrible," Hermione whispered with tears in her eyes and Calypso nodded gravely.

"Any muggle-born that Hogwarts took in could become or was an Obscure, they could kill dozens before they were finally put down and often destroyed anything in their path," Calypso told them grimly. "It was a very real fear during that time, that they could be inviting in what amounted to a monster into their halls, to walk and learn with their children while all the while they could lash out without barely a warning. It wasn't fair, not to the children who suffered and became Obscurus nor to the children that were watched with wary or fearful eyes in case they proved to be an Obscurus, but fear often robs people of fairness."

Calypso spread one hand before her as Luna still held the other; "Any of these reasons could be behind Slytherin desire to ban muggle-borns, but accounts of that time are few and far between so for all we know he could have believed in blood purity, we just don't know.

We know the other Founders degreed with him, that the argument may have or may not have ended up in a duel, but did end up with Slytherin leaving Hogwarts.

Legend," Calypso made a face as she spoke that word as if she found it distasteful, "says that Slytherin left a warning and perhaps a prophecy behind as he left. He said he had build a chamber somewhere in the school, hidden from everyone, and he had left a monster in its depth. He foretold that one day his heir would come and cleanse Hogwarts from the unworthy."

"Unworthy?" Harry repeated with a small scowl. "Meaning muggle-borns?"

"That's the common belief, yes," Calypso shrugged as if to say what-can-you-do.

"But what of the monster?" Hermione asked. "What was it?"

"Nobody knows," Calypso told Hermione, sharing in her frustration. "But my money is on a snake of some sort as that is the symbol of his House and what he was most famous for."

"What type of snake can cause petrification though?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I don't know," Calypso shrugged her shoulders. "I can't think of one off the top of my head though a Gorgon is known to petrify their victims—but Gorgons don't often live more than a century or two and they have never been seen outside of Greece. Also, you can't really tame a Gorgon, anyone that attempts to often ends up petrified or dead—mostly dead."

"Well that was a fat lot of good," Ron declared as he slumped back in his seat.

"We knew more then we did before," Hermione argued as Calypso leaned back almost insulted. "Thank you for telling us, Calypso."

"I'm glad one of you appreciated what I had to say," Calypso said wryly as she eyed Ron with mild dislike making the tall boy flush under her gaze.

"I didn't mean it like that," Ron said quickly, "I just thought you'd be able tell what the monster is or even where the Chamber is?"

Calypso shook her head sadly at Ron's suddenly hopeful look.

"Many people have searched over the centuries, all of them hunting for the Chamber and whatever else Slytherin had put in there but so-far none have found it," she told him making his face drop in disappointment. "However, he hid it, he did well, and in a way, no one could accidentally stumble across of it. It's also probably locked so only his so-called heir can open it."

"Any ideas on who the heir could be?" Harry asked almost hopefully though wasn't surprised when Calypso shook her head.

"The last known Heirs of Slytherin was the Gaunt Family and they died out sometime in the forties though they had turned mostly squib a few generations before that," Calypso told him, and Neville nodded.

"Gran told me about them," Neville added with a disgusted look. "They went mad about keep Slytherin's line 'pure' that they began marrying brother to sister until they bred the magic out of themselves."

"That's disgusting," Hermione wrinkled her nose, and everyone gave a nod of agreement.

"And a reminder why pure-bloods are careful on who they marry," Calypso added. "It's already bad enough with almost every pure-blood and some odd half-bloods being related to each other in one way or another, none of the families want to end up the next Gaunts."

"Really?" Harry asked in slightly disgusted curiosity.

"I'm related to both Ron and Neville distantly through blood and Ron again through marriage," Calypso offered. "I'm also related distantly to you Harry though just through marriage."

"How?" Harry asked in mild bafflement.

"Charlus Potter, the brother to your great-grandfather Henry Potter, married Dorea Black," Calypso told him, "Dorea Black is the younger sister of my great-grandfather Pollux Black."

"Huh," Harry wasn't sure how he was meant to feel about that, in one way that made Calypso family, but at the same time it was a bit too distant a connection to truly claim her as family.

It was disappointing, he had hoped he had other family beside from the Dursleys.

"You have a third cousin though," Calypso offered hesitantly.

"What?" Harry's head snapped towards her in disbelief. "I'm not the last Potter?"

"You are, and you aren't," Calypso told him making him scowl at her. "You're the last Potter in England, but Charlus and Dorea Potter had a son, Leo, who married a French witch, Arielle, and they had a daughter, Colette.

Charlus and Leo died of dragonpox, and Arielle moved the rest of the family back home to France to continue to raise her daughter away from the memories."

"How do you know this?" Harry demanded in mild disbelief, his head spinning at the thought of actual family being out there.

"Again, Dorea Black is the younger sister to my great-grandfather," she repeated with raised eyebrows as if she was questioning his intelligence again.

Harry was too out of it to even bristle under her look.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione threw her arms around his neck. "This is wonderful!"

Ron clapped Harry firmly on the back, knocking him out of his shock.

"I have family?" he questioned as he turned to Ron, the red head grinned as he nodded.

"You're going to write to them, right?" Hermione pulled back and beamed at him. "Oh, they must speak French! I'll have to teach you; my family has had a few holidays in France, you know, and I'm almost fluent!"

Quietly, Neville, Luna and Calypso left the trio to their celebration of sorts.

* * *

"That was very nice of you, Calypso," Luna complimented as she swung their hands between them as they escorted Neville back to the Gryffindor Tower—he had protested before Calypso pointed out there was two of them and only one of him, so he would be in more danger walking the halls alone then they should be together.

"I suppose?" Calypso questioned before turning to Neville. "Does he know anything about the Potters?"

Neville fidgeted under his cousin's fierce gaze, but he understood Calypso's confusion and almost despair as he was the heir to the Longbottoms like Calypso was the heir of the Blacks and Harry was meant to be the heir of the Potters. It was almost impossible to believe that an heir had no idea of his own family's history, but Neville was certain that Harry knew almost nothing about his family.

"Neville," Calypso said in mild disapproval and he cringed making her sigh. "I suppose I should send a letter to Aunt Lucretia, perhaps she has done some research on the Potter family or she could start doing some."

"You are being very nice today, Calypso," Luna commented as she glanced at her friend and smiling at the scowl that crossed her face.

"Are you saying I'm not a nice person?" she demanded in some disbelieving annoyance and Luna only giggled. "Luna!"

Neville smiled as his cousin nudged at her friend with one of her sharp elbows which made Luna lean away without letting go of Calypso's hand.

"So, the blood-traitor is friends with a squib and a loon," Malfoy's drawling voice made Neville stiffen as Malfoy stepped out from behind a tapestry with Crabbe and Goyle close on his heels.

"Did you wait for me behind that tapestry on the hope I would pass by?" Calypso asked almost curiously, and Malfoy's pale cheeks flushed with colour. "I'm flattered, cousin, by the trouble you went through."

"Don't call me cousin you filthy thieving blood-traitor!" Malfoy snapped furiously.

"I can't steal something from you when it wasn't even yours to begin with," Calypso pointed out. "Lord Arcturus always had the final decision on who would become the Black heir."

"Why he chose a lowly half-blood like you, I don't know," Malfoy sniffed, and Calypso smiled sharply at him in a way that made Neville wince slightly knowing Malfoy wouldn't like what she was about to say.

"So, no upstart Malfoy could put their filthy hands on the Blacks' gold," she told him almost simply, and Malfoy's mouth dropped open in outrage. "I believe those were his words."

Malfoy clenched his jaw and forcefully calmed himself down in a way he never did when faced with Harry, Neville noted.

"I wonder if Lord Arcturus would still believe he made the right choice if he was aware of your affections," Malfoy nodded meaningful at Calypso and Luna's interlocked hands.

"Are you threatening to out me as a lesbian?" Calypso asked almost torn between shock and amusement as Neville went almost stone-faced as he stared at Malfoy, homosexuality wasn't readily accepted amongst the Heirs of the families as they had to continue their bloodline.

Malfoy looked smug for a moment before Calypso threw her head back with a laugh that made him look uncertain as the others looked at her in shock accept from Luna who just smiled slightly.

"I'm eleven-years-old," she pointed out with laughter clear in her voice. "Just how am I meant to be sharing such 'affections'? Is holding hands with a friend all it takes to be labelled a lesbian now? How stupid," she then grinned at him sharply, "Anyway it didn't matter if I was a lesbian, Lord Arcturus has already stated he didn't care if I married or not as long as I take the mantle of Lady Black come maturity and have an heir. Is your father so understanding? Would he shrug off any rumours about his son preferring the company of two boys over all the fine pureblood girls in his House?" she eyed Crabbe and Goyle meaningfully in a way that made the two towering boys uncomfortable.

Malfoy stumbled back a step and paled, and Calypso easily batted away the slightest sting of guilt at the sight of the fear in her cousin's grey eyes at the thought of Lucius Malfoy getting even a hint of a rumour about his son being gay.

It didn't matter that neither were mature enough for more than innocent passing crushes, that any romantic relationships now would certainty not end in sexual-intercourse and thus safe for them to suss out their sexuality without the pressure of actual sex.

Being homosexual and being an heir wasn't well looked on by the old families, how could it be when there is so much pressure on marrying well and siring strong pureblood sons and beautiful pureblood daughters?

Calypso knew if it got out that she was an 'lesbian' then there would be a number of moronic boys that would involve themselves in her life to prove she was straight or 'make' her straight, she wasn't naïve enough to believe that they wouldn't do anything forceful to her and she would not bare the threat of rape along with whatever was stalking Hogwarts' corridors, she refused to allow that to happen.

So, she bluffed, she would never 'out' someone or lie about someone's sexuality as that wasn't who she was. But sadly, her cousin would as he had already proven that with his little threat, so he would easily assume someone else would do that same.

She was only lucky that she could use this bluff as the corridor was empty and there was no-one to see this family drama, and Calypso wouldn't have to worry about the rumours starting anyway like they would have if Malfoy had decided to confront her in public.

"Crabbe, Goyle," he snapped as he shot her a glare that told her that his hatred had risen to a new level and that she would likely pay for that threat before he turned on his heel and left with his bodyguards behind him.

Calypso let out a small sigh of relief when she could no longer hear the lumbering footsteps of Crabbe and Goyle.

"You're lucky that worked," Luna observed with knowing eyes and Calypso nodded slightly before turning to Neville, poor boy looked shocked and confused by the turnabout.

"Shall we continue?" she flashed him an almost hesitant smile and Neville nodded after a moment, obviously deciding to shelf what happened or just shrugging it off, and Calypso was reminded why she often labelled him her favourite cousin—despite Akira's hurt whines.

* * *

"Look George!" one lanky Weasley twin slunk over to them as the portrait-hole to the Gryffindor common room opened. "It's ickle Tonksie!"

"So, I see, Fred," the other lanky twin grinned down at her as he bounced towards them and Calypso bit back a groan—oh no, not them. "Where's your pretty colours, Tonksie?"

She leaned away from his hand that reached out to twist one of her pigtails, she regretting choosing pigtails this morning.

"You remember," she groaned as she knew the only time they could have seen her hair change colour was at Cynthia and Jared's wedding and she vaguely remember it had been the twins that made her finally find safety in Akira's arms—it was one of her earliest memories of this life.

"Course we do, don't we George?" Fred—or at least the twin that was claiming to be Fred—grinned over at his twin.

"We could never forget such pretty colours, could we Fred?" George—or at least the twin claiming to be George—grinned in turn.

"Never, George. Won't you show us your pretty colours again?" Fred pouted at her and Calypso pointedly turned to the bemused Neville that was watching the byplay.

"See you tomorrow, Neville," she said firmly.

"I think she's ignoring us, Fred," George said with a mock gasp of shock.

"How rude," Fred sniffed in mock offense.

"Of course," Neville said almost nervously as he watched the twins just shy of warily.

"Bye Neville," Luna waved with a smile as Calypso began to tug her away. "Bye Fred, George."

"Don't encourage them Luna," Calypso scolded without looking back. "They may never leave us alone if you do."

"Bye, Tonksie!" George called out.

"We'll see you again, we promise!" Fred added with a smirk in his voice, and Calypso groaned—of course she had caught the attention of the bloody Weasley twins.

They were the cherry on the top of such a _perfect_ day.

Luna, the traitor, just laughed in amusement.

* * *

Calypso had not expected to become tentative friends with Harry Potter, she had thought to avoid him until the Dark Monster returned and war was a very real threat as Harry Potter—the idea more than the person, she would admit—frightened her.

But she had not factored in Lockhart or her annoyance with the fraud—if he actually did what his books claim then Calypso would eat her hat—nor the fact he would actually assign her detention on her first day—Mum was so disappointed while Dora found it hilarious and Dad attempted to be stern, but she could almost feel his amusement in his words in the letter they sent her.

Detention with Lockhart meant meeting Harry Potter, it meant the two of them sharing in the misery of being forced to share the same space as Lockhart, it meant sympathetic looks towards Harry as Lockhart nattered on at him, and it meant the eerie voice that only Harry could hear.

Her easy acceptable of what he said seemed to have cemented a bond between them as Harry and her would share awkward smiles when they arrived at Lockhart's office, Calypso would watch over Harry as he strained to hear that voice again and often ended up dealing with half of Harry's assigned work considering he was so distracted.

And then Halloween happened, Mrs Norris and those ominous words on the wall, and Calypso didn't once entrain the idea that Harry had something to do with it, she had gone to him to find out if it was the voice again, to see if it had finally claimed its first victim, and he had told her the truth without hesitating.

With a single suggestion from Neville, he had in a way sought her out for her knowledge on the Chamber. He had trusted her knowledge when Hermione couldn't find the book they needed for information.

All this, she supposed, made them friends—and Calypso didn't know what to make of this friendship.

She wasn't used to friends, she was used to family. Neville wasn't a friend, he was family, Newt, Thomas and Theresa were not friends but family. Akira, Victor, Beatrix, Kris, Cynthia and Junior were family and not friends.

But now she would have to get used to friends, friends with Luna, Hermione, Ron and Harry.

Calypso wasn't very sure she could be a good friend, she knew she was an acquired taste and that she had always been different even before the memories came.

She was too blunt, too judgemental, too unsympathetic for others' feelings and pain.

She didn't like many people, she didn't really like people in general, and yet these four strangers seemed to consider her as a friend—or at least Luna did, Luna who held her hand when Calypso allowed it or simply wrapped her hand around her wrist when Calypso couldn't bring herself to hold hands, who smiled when Calypso ranted about Lockhart, who never took her blunt words the wrong way, who seemed to understand Calypso in a way she hadn't expected someone outside her family would.

Luna, Calypso realised, was probably her best friend and she had never had a best friend before.

When Calypso had confessed that—feeling strangely embarrassed for some reason—all Luna had done was smile as she said neither had she, but she quite liked having one.

Friends, Calypso finally decided, were odd but nice.

* * *

 **AN: Hello, this came to me quickly, so I hope you like it. I suppose this is a filler chapter—is that the right term?**

 **One reviewer seemed to misunderstand my question about if there were any suggestions about where Calypso ended up, so I thought I'd try to clear it up.**

 **Calypso's life is the first in a brand-new SI/OC series that I'm branding as the Life series, she will live out her life as Calypso Tonks or Black if she decides to take up that name when she becomes Lady Black and then she will die in some way or another that will probably happen off screen as it were.**

 **The question referred to what world you'd may want to see her in in her next life, I hope that that clears it up.**

 **Some of you have requested Game of Thrones, which I'm assuming is the TV series and not the book series its based on, and I have had an interest to write a Game of Thrones fanfiction—it'll be my first as you know doubt have realised—but I'm unsure of what family I should drop her in and if I should make her a member of the elder generation like Eddard Stark or have her be in the generation that is Jon Snow and Arya Stark.**

 **Those decision are very difficult as they are what will decide how I write that story, so any suggestions or wishes I would love to know as it would help me with my own decision.**

 **Also to the reviewer that requested Mass Effect, was it the original trilogy or Andromeda you were thinking of when you requested that?**

 **Last question, as some of you know if you read my previous SI/OC series, I have a slight obsession when it comes to Pokémon and was wondering if you would be interested to one day see Calypso as a Pokémon trainer?**

 **And it would be one day as I'm solely focusing on Calypso's first story at this time. I will also tell you that I will be returning to Thedas with Calypso, so I hope some fans will wait eagerly for that story.**

 **Right, sorry for the long AN, but I thought I should ask these questions. Again, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	11. Chapter 11

Calypso scowled at Luna who continued to tug her up the stairs and towards the crush of students, completely uncaring of Calypso's annoyance.

"I don't know why you think we must go to this," Calypso grumbled as she pulled her Ravenclaw coloured beanie further over her ears with one hand.

"We need to support Harry," Luna said airily as she began to tug Calypso through the crowded stands of the Quidditch Pitch.

"It's not like he's going to be able to tell if we were here or not," Calypso pointed out as she scowled at the noisy students around her.

"It's the thought that counts," Luna beamed at her over her shoulder, pale nose turning a bit pink in the chill.

"I thought that was when it came to presents," Calypso frowned as Luna finally stopped and beamed at Prefect Hillard.

"Thank you for saving us some seats," Luna said as she almost pushed Calypso down. "I'm afraid convincing Calypso took longer than I thought."

"It's alright," Robert Hillard told them as he eyed the scowl increasing on Calypso's face. "Though I don't think this is Tonks' thing."

"It's not," Calypso grumbled as Luna waved one hand dismissively as she sat beside Calypso and sandwiching her between herself and the Prefect—she knew Calypso hated sitting beside strangers and the Prefect was only just tolerable.

"We're here to support Harry," Luna beamed, and Robert frowned in disapproval and distrust.

"I see," he said almost darkly, and Calypso wanted to scoff at him, but bit her lip—see Luna? She could restrain herself.

It was foolish to believe that Harry had anything to do with Mrs Norris' attack or he was the supposed Heir of Slytherin.

Hermione was one of his best friends and she was a muggle-born, his late mother had been a muggle-born, Harry had no issue with muggle-borns and Calypso suspected he considered himself more of a muggle-born than a half-blood.

And yet it seemed people couldn't help but be foolish when it came to Harry Potter, no, she corrected herself internally, they couldn't help but be foolish when it came to the Boy-Who-Lived as she doubted many of the students actually looked at Harry without that title attached to him blinding them from reality.

"We should have sat with Neville and them," Calypso told Luna in an undertone.

"We will next time," Luna decided, and Calypso groaned—next time she was bringing a book.

Her desire for a book was soon washed away with fear as one of the Bludgers targeted Harry ruthlessly.

"Oh no," Luna said softly as she watched the Weasley twins' close ranks around Harry to protect him from the rogue Bludger that refused to leave Harry alone for long.

"Why hasn't a time-out been called?" Calypso asked angrily as she searched for Madame Hooch, wondering if the Flying Teacher had seen what was happening to Gryffindor's star Seeker and if so, why she hadn't called a time-out yet—it was obvious that the Bludger had been tampered with!

"That Bludger's acting funny," Hilliard muttered, and she shot her upper-class-man a look.

"Obviously!" Calypso almost sneered before returning to her search for Madame Hooch—honestly, what was wrong with people? Were they all so wilfully blind and stupid?! This is why she disliked people!

It was only after Slytherin had scored several points and the other Bludger had almost belted into one of the Gryffindor Chasers before the Gryffindor Keeper and the team Captain called for a time-out.

Luna let out a small sound of relief, but Calypso didn't relax as she peered towards where the Gryffindor team had gathered—something wasn't right, she could feel it, and she was certain that Harry was going to do something stupid.

She let out a groan as time resumed and Harry went flying off without the protection of the Weasley twins.

"What an idiot," Calypso declared as Luna's hand shot out and gripped Calypso's hand with great strength as they both watched Harry fly around impressively with the Bludger on his tail.

Harry paused in the air and seemed to be staring at where Malfoy was no doubt sprouting taunts and such, and Calypso winced as the Bludger smacked into his arm with great force.

Harry wavered for a moment, probably from the pain from what she suspected would be a bad humerus break considering the iron-ball had hit him just above his elbow, before darting towards Malfoy with great speed making the blonde Seeker panic and shoot out the way—letting Harry grab the snitch without any trouble before he slumped off his broom and down towards the middle of the pitch.

Calypso winced as Luna flinched at the thump Harry's body made while the Weasley twins straight away went to herd the rogue Bludger—Calypso wouldn't be surprised if he had a broken radius to add to his broken humerus considering how he landed.

"Come on," Calypso stood and pulled Luna up with her. "I need to have words with that idiot."

Calypso did end up having words with an idiot, just a different one.

* * *

Harry groaned as it seemed his broken arm deflated, and he looked at the fleshy mess his once-broken but still whole arm now was.

"Oh dear," Lockhart said almost sheepishly, and Harry wanted to throttle him, and opened his mouth no doubt to sprout of some stupid excuse for what he had done when a furious shout interrupted him.

"You idiot!" Calypso Tonks ran over with a fearsome scowl on her pretty face—Harry could just see Luna jogging behind her—and didn't even hesitate as she landed a sharp kick to Lockhart's shin making the blonde man yelp in great shock and mild pain which Colin Creevey thankfully caught on film—it almost made Harry fond of his smaller blonde annoyance. "What were you thinking? You brain-dead twit! You don't know a thing about healing! How dare you attempt to heal anyone when you can hardily use your wand right when doing common things! You're lucky you only vanished his bones! Arrogant moronic arse! Just when I think there could be no greater depth of your stupidity, you prove me wrong!"

"Calypso," Hermione gasped appalled, but the other brunette was on a roll and didn't seem to hear her.

"Your inability to heal is only match by your inability to teach! I'm surprised anyone in their right minds allows you to carry a wand! You're a menace without it! What Dumbledore was thinking when hiring such a moronic, arrogant and delusional man as a teacher I have no idea!"

"Blimey," Ron muttered in awe as he placed Harry's good arm around his shoulders and Harry nodded in numb agreement.

"How you even graduated from Hogwarts baffles me! You probably used your pretty face! It's not like you have a shred of real talent in you! You're only real talent is getting people to believe the drivel you write and the feats you've claimed to have done! Which anyone with a lick of sense would doubt! After all, you can't even deal with a pack of Cornish Pixies!"

Harry swore to himself that he would never forget this sight; Calypso standing tall and her gloved hands gesturing angrily, a scowl twisting her pretty face, an angry flush turning her face red and Harry could almost swear that under her hat that Calypso's dark hair had a reddish tint.

Lockhart had fallen on his bottom in his overwhelming shock at being taking to task by a First-Year, a flush of outrage was working up his neck and face, but he was struck dumb by shock.

"Twit! Moron! Idiot! Foolish! Senseless! Irresponsible! Ridiculous! Daft! Dim-witted! Brainless!" Calypso had descended into shouting words now, almost flinging insults at him. "Conceited! Egotistical! Big-headed! Condescending!"

Luna had finally decided to cut in and grabbed Calypso by the hand to forcefully tug Calypso away from the almost cowering Lockhart—not that stopped the string of insults being shouted in Calypso's increasingly hoarse voice.

Neville bravely put his arm around Harry's waist on his other side—barely a grimace passing his lips as he felt the fleshy arm's flopping movement which was out of Harry's control—and helped Ron bring Harry to his feet before the joined trio began to follow Luna and Calypso.

Harry could hear Hermione strutting apologises behind him as she followed, he couldn't help the massive grin on his face despite his dread of what Madame Pomfrey would say when she saw the state of him.

He doubted anyone would ever forget Calypso Tonks' display of temper just then, he knew he wouldn't. He suspected he just witnessed the highlight of his year.

* * *

Madame Pomfrey was not impressed and was almost angry as she glared at the sack of flesh that had once been Harry's arm.

"You should have come straight to me!" she scolded as she directed Neville and Ron to place Harry on one of the beds.

"Lockhart didn't give him a chance," Calypso almost croaked, her throat almost burning from the shouting she had done—she had never been much of a shouter.

Madame Pomfrey turned towards her with a frown.

"And what happened to you?" she asked sharply, and Hermione scowled.

"She shouted at Professor Lockhart," Hermione was still appalled, but Calypso didn't miss the hint of a grim smile tugging at Madame Pomfrey's lips for just a moment.

"You only need some water and to take it easy for a while," Pomfrey told her and gestured towards the jug of water and glasses that she kept ready before she turned back to Harry.

Calypso smiled weakly as Luna immediately got her a glass of water and carefully began to sip the cool liquid that soothed her abused throat.

"You're going to be in so much trouble," Hermione fretted as she scowled at Calypso.

"Worth it," Calypso said as firmly as she could, taking another sip of water under Luna's unusually stern eyes.

And it was, it didn't matter how many detentions she would have to sit because that, she didn't regret what she had said as it was all true and the moron deserved it, he really was lucky he had just vanished Harry's bones.

Perhaps she shouldn't have kicked him, but he needed someone to get it into his thick-skull that he couldn't do what he liked just because he was somehow famous.

"It was bloody brilliant!" was Ron's comment from behind the curtain that Madame Pomfrey had pulled around Harry's bed so the boys could help him into his hospital pyjamas.

"He didn't mean to vanish Harry's bones," Hermione protested and Calypso eyed Hermione in mild disgust—she was surprised that someone so smart like Hermione had bought into the false legend of Lockhart. "Anyway, you're not in pain now, are you Harry?"

"I can't feel anything now!" Harry protested angrily as the curtain was pushed back and he clumsily got into bed with Neville and Ron hovering and ready to give him a hand.

"And Mr Potter is going to be in a great deal of pain tonight," Madame Pomfrey observed with pursed lips as she poured out what Calypso recognised as Skele-Gro into a glass and thrusted towards Harry. "You'll want to drink it in one go."

Harry grimaced, but knocked back the potion without hesitation only to shudder slightly at the taste—Calypso sympathised, Skele-Gro was a particularly foul potion to drink.

"Miss Tonks," McGonagall's stern voice made their heads snap towards the doorway as the Head of Gryffindor entered and Calypso braced herself. "Well your defence of Mr Potter was heartfelt and appreciated, you still disrespected and kicked a teacher."

Calypso held her chin stubbornly; "he deserved it."

Ron stifled a groan at Calypso's gall while Hermione buried her face into her hands and Neville winced. Luna only patted Calypso on her shoulder in mild agreement.

"Of that, I have no doubt," McGonagall said which caused them to gape in disbelief and shock though Calypso managed to grin slightly. "You will still have to deal with detention for the next month and one-hundred-and-fifty points have been taken from Ravenclaw."

Harry winced, from his experience he knew that Ravenclaw wouldn't be happy that some First-Year had lost one-hundred-and-fifty points in one go.

"Because of the nature of your relationship with Lockhart," McGonagall's lips twitched slightly. "It has been decided it would prudent not to assign your detention to him, tomorrow I will inform you of who you'll be spending time with for the next week."

"Week?" Luna questioned. "Does that mean she'll have a different teacher each week?"

"Indeed, Miss Lovegood," McGonagall nodded. "Now, I expect that Madame Pomfrey would prefer if you lot leave Mr Potter to his rest."

"Quite right," Madame Pomfrey nodded and Harry grimaced, already the stinging pain was starting in his arm.

"We'll see you tomorrow, Harry," Hermione promised, and the others nodded before they departed.

* * *

"Tonksie!" was Calypso's only warning before she was squeezed between the grass-stained and sweaty Weasley twins.

"You stink," Calypso deadpanned which only made them hug her harder.

"She says such nice words, doesn't she George?" Fred grinned.

"Too right, brother," George nodded. "What was your favourite? Mine was 'arrogant moronic arse'."

"'Brain-less twit'," Fred said with great delight.

"Oi," Ron blustered in annoyance while Neville wavered next to him, looking like he wanted to snatch his cousin from the grip of the twins. "Let her go."

"Let her go?" Fred repeated aghast. "How can we let her go without showing our appreciation of the verbal smack down she gave Lockhart?"

"I don't want your appreciation," Calypso felt the need to point out, but the twins ignored her easily.

"It was brilliant," George grinned. "'Course we didn't see it first-hand, but Ollie made sure to tell us in detail."

"People will be talking about this for years, won't they brother?" Fred asked.

"Too true, brother, too true," George agreed.

"Of course, you would approve," Hermione scowled with her arms crossed.

"We're not the only ones," Fred enjoyed pointing out. "All the boys and some girls now consider our ickle Tonksie a hero."

"Though the rest of the girls are pretty steamed," George added with a hint of frown and looked down at the First-Year in his arms. "You best watch out for them."

"Joy," Calypso muttered, her throat still sore. "Just what I wanted to deal with, fangirls."

"We'll set them straight if they attempt anything," Fred told her with a smirk that said he was already thinking up pranks to level at anyone that decided to bully Calypso for what she had done.

"You should do that after you shower," Luna decided almost airily. "Otherwise you may warn them with your smell."

Fred and George stared at the little blonde for a moment in almost stunned silence while Calypso smirked in their arms before they burst out in laughter.

"That's us told, isn't it Fred?" George laughed as he let go of Calypso.

"Too right," Fred grinned as he did the same and both laughed as Calypso made a point of brushing off bits of grass that had stuck to her. "See you later, Tonksie."

"They aren't going to leave me alone, are they?" Calypso said in some despair as she watched the two disappear with a lingering chuckle.

"Nope," Ron told her bluntly as Neville patted her shoulder with a sympathetic look.

Hermione huffed in a way that told Calypso that she thought it served Calypso right after her attack of Lockhart—she was still amazed that Hermione actually liked the twit.

"At least you know you'll never be bored," Luna told her brightly.

"I'd rather be bored," Calypso informed her best friend bluntly and Luna laughed in almost fiendish delight—traitor.

* * *

Apart from the dirty looks—mostly from the girls, she noticed—and some cold-shoulders, no one made a move against her for her actions when Luna and herself arrived back at the Tower.

Prefect Robert Hilliard frowned in disapproval as he stopped them from going up to their dorm.

"Tonks," he sighed and looked like he didn't know what to say. "Please refrain from further outbursts like today—we would like a chance to win the House Cup for once."

"Well," Calypso began, but Luna cut her off quickly—Calypso had already caused enough trouble today in Luna's opinion.

"I'll keep a better eye on her," Luna promised as she tugged the brunette away and Hilliard nodded with a troubled look.

"You didn't let me finish," Calypso pouted as they went up the stairs.

"You already caused enough trouble," Luna chided as she opened the door to their room, smiling as Desdemona raced over to greet them—Luna with a pleased purr and Calypso with a quick bat at the shins.

"I can't help it," Calypso sighed as she made her way towards her side of the room—she smelt of sweat and grass thanks to the Twins. "He just makes me so mad, and you saw what he did to Harry."

"I understand," Luna told her as she sat down on her bed and watched her friend. "But you can't let the Wrackspurts cloud your mind when you get angry or you'll end up in even more trouble."

"It's hard to stay positive when confronted with such conceited stupidity," Calypso told Luna as she grabbed her toiletry bag, towel and change of clothes—pyjamas, she decided, as she doubted they'd be leaving the Tower again and if they did, she didn't care about wandering around in her pyjamas. "But I'll try."

"That's all I ask," Luna smiled, and Calypso smiled back—she was thankful that Luna was so understanding.

* * *

Talks of Calypso's confrontation with Lockhart was halted in its tracks that next morning at breakfast.

Professor Dumbledore stood from his seat in a way that made the hall quiet down curiously as the students watched their Headmaster, frowns and looks of worry were exchanged when the students' finally noticed the grim look on the faces of most of the teachers.

No one had ever remembered Dumbledore making an announcement at breakfast before, and for him to do so, it meant something serious had happened.

"Students," Dumbledore sighed sadly. "I'm afraid that last night there was another attack made by the supposed Heir of Slytherin. First-Year Gryffindor Colin Creevey was found petrified and has been placed into the care of our capable Madame Pomfrey."

Calypso pushed her plate away, feeling sick as that knowledge sunk in throughout the hall.

"For the foreseeable future, I'm enforcing the curfew as I feel in light of this attack that it is unwise to travel the corridors alone and at night," Dumbledore told them all, and no one made a sound of protest as they stared up at him, it had always been an open secret that curfew had never been properly enforced despite the Prefects' best efforts—the Weasley twins had always been willing to sell the patrol times of the teachers after all. "Please be careful as you travel, thank you."

The Great Hall didn't immediately fall into whispers when Dumbledore retook his seat like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, but slowly whispers started here and there before growing steadily.

Luna shared a fearful glance with Calypso, the hope that Calypso had been wrong about there being other attacks was shattered with the news of Colin Creevey's petrification.

The undertone of worry and fear that had been slowly diminishing since no other attacks had happened since Mrs Norris had come back in full force and heightened as this wasn't another pet, no it was an actual student that had been attacked this time.

Calypso glanced over to the Gryffindor table, she clocked Neville looking scared and pale before her attention was grabbed by Hermione and Ron bent close together and whispering furiously before they finally left—something was odd about them, but Calypso couldn't put her finger onto what.

"Poor Ginny," Luna whispered, also looking at the Gryffindor table, and Calypso saw the other girl hunched in her seat next to Percy Weasley with her face so white her freckles stood out vividly and teary eyes. "Colin's her friend."

"Poor Colin," Calypso added with a sigh. "What was he even doing out last night? It had to be late if he was alone and passed curfew considering the Headmaster's rule."

"I don't know," Luna shook her head. "Should we try and cheer Ginny up?"

"Her friend is petrified, I don't know how we can," Calypso said, but stood with Luna anyway and made her way to the red-head, if only to support Luna.

"Ginny," Luna sighed sadly as she wrapped her arms around her old friend and Ginny clung back tightly.

"I can't believe that Colin," Ginny cut herself off with a supressed sob. "It's terrible, Luna."

"I know," Luna attempted to sooth, a hitch to her own voice.

Calypso stood there awkwardly and patted Ginny's back in an attempt to comfort her—she wasn't the most comforting person really which made her wish to become a healer odd in the minds of most of her cousins while delighting other members of her family, namely her father, Aunt Victoria and Uncle Benjamin.

"It'll be alright Ginny," Percy Weasley almost looked as awkward as Calypso felt. "Professor Dumbledore will figure out what's happening and Madame Pomfrey will take good care of Colin in the meantime."

"I'm going to check on Neville," Calypso muttered, waiting for Luna's nod before she made her way towards her frightened cousin—it looked like she would have to talk him down from a panic.

* * *

Over the next few days, a roaring trade of supposed protective talismans and objects to ward off evil and such took over the school's underground 'market'—operated by the upper-years.

Calypso scowled as she saw such things in Neville's possession.

"You actually spent your money on this junk?" she questioned furiously as she grabbed a gurdyroot and shook it in her cousin's face.

Neville leaned back from the green onion-like plant.

"It may work," he said almost hopefully, and she scowled at him.

"You know it won't!" she told him without any hesitation. "It's junk that no-good opportunists are peddling to the desperate and the frightened. None of these things will do anything."

"I just want to feel safe," Neville whispered as he slumped into himself and Calypso softened as she took in her cousin's frightened and pale face.

"I know," she sighed. "Stay in a group, Colin Creevey was alone so you should be safe in a group, and stay away from Harry, Ron and Hermione."

"You want me to stay away from them?" Neville frowned in confusion. "I thought they were our friends."

"They are," Calypso still found that to be amazing, "but Harry is going to end up in the middle of all this, you know that, and Ron and Hermione will be right behind him. I don't want you in even more danger by tagging on with them."

"Okay," Neville said looking a bit troubled. "But I think I'll tell them why."

"That's fine, they'll understand," she decided and dropped the gurdyroot in the bag that Neville was carrying his 'protective' items in.

They better understand, Calypso thought to herself with a hint of a frown.

* * *

Harry was eating breakfast, later today would be the first ever meeting of the new duelling club.

Harry wasn't sure how it was meant to help against whatever unknown creature the Heir of Slytherin was using, but he wouldn't argue about the boost it had given some of the students at the thought that they would be able to defend themselves.

Neville was certainly looking more cheerful from where he sat next to Hermione, almost hopeful in a way he hadn't been since he strutted his apologies about staying away from them—mostly at the suggestion of Calypso—and how he was sorry, but Neville was frightened and didn't want to be in more danger, but, Neville had added earnestly, he did not think Harry was responsible at all and that wasn't the reason he was sticking with Dean and Seamus and he didn't want Harry to think he would doubt him like that.

Harry had understood, and he also approved. Neville wasn't like Ron or Hermione who had already followed him into danger, and Harry didn't think this Chamber business should be his first fray into the danger that came with becoming friends with Harry.

He wasn't even mad for Calypso suggesting that Neville keep away from them, because he understood the want to protect her family and he knew it was nothing personal. Calypso had been there when Ron made his ill-thought comment that Halloween night, she knew from that comment that Harry would end up involved and she didn't want her cousin involved.

It also meant it was easier for them to sneak to Moaning Myrtle's toilet and continue with their illegal potion. Malfoy may not be the Heir of Slytherin, but they were certain he knew something about what was happening.

He was broken from his thought by an unmarked book being flopped onto the table beside him and looked up to see Calypso standing next to him.

"That's for you," she told him simply.

"Ah, thanks?" Harry offered as he took the book. "What is it?"

"Your lack of knowledge about your own family appals me," she told him bluntly in her usual fashion.

"You really know how to make someone feel special," Harry told her dryly and Calypso smirked at him.

"If you wanted to feel special, you'd have made friends with a Boy-Who-Lived fan," she pointed out, "You are friends with me because of our shared contempt of Lockhart, the time we shared in the miserable company of said moron and the fact that I'm not stupid enough to believe you are the Heir of Slytherin."

Something bothered Harry about what she said as if Calypso thought that was the only reason they were friends.

"And because I like your blunt manner," Harry added, and Calypso blinked in mild shock and confusion but simply nodded with his added comment.

"Anyway," she cleared her throat, "that book is filled with the public history of the Potter family, Aunt Lucretia put it together for me so Merry Christmas."

"Oh," Harry blinked and took in the rather unremarkable book that held the history of his family, he almost felt choked but mostly warm. "Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it," Calypso smiled and turned to go, but he grabbed her wrist.

"Thank you," he repeated as she looked back at him. "You don't know how much this means to me."

Calypso paused, an almost uncomfortable look appearing on her face as if she didn't know what to do with his gratitude.

"Just don't expect anything else for Christmas," Calypso told him before she almost fled back to the Ravenclaw table.

"That was nice of her," Hermione said as she eyed the book in a way that told Harry she wanted to read it too.

Harry ran his hand across the hard-leather cover and smiled.

"Yeah, it was," Harry said.

Unfortunately, that happy moment would be ruined by what would happen later at the duelling club—Harry really should had walked out when he saw Lockhart, he realised in hindsight.


	12. Chapter 12

It wasn't Snape that finally got rid of the snake nor did Lockhart have another chance to infuriate it, a long silver needle pierced through its' neck and the snake almost screamed as it died, twisting around the needle that pierced its throat.

Harry looked up, startled, and saw Calypso with her wand out, dark eyes wide and already pale face ashen as she stared at the snake. A match slipped from her nerveless fingers of her left hand and Harry now recognised the spell she used as their first ever Transfiguration spell, mixed with something else.

Luna was slowly lowering Calypso's right arm, whispering to her comforting.

"What are you playing at?" Justin Finch-Fletchley almost shouted, voice trembling with fear and anger, and Harry looked at him to defend Calypso's actions only to pause when he saw that Justin's fear and anger was directed at Harry and not Calypso.

Harry didn't understand and only then became aware of the slowly rising whispers as everyone stared at him in growing fear and the Hufflepuffs surged to surround Justin protectively despite the fear on their faces.

"We have to go," Hermione whispered hurriedly as she tugged at him.

"Now," Ron almost yanked him off the stage and together they hurried him out of the Great Hall and away from the fearful gazes of his fellow students.

Calypso didn't react as she stared at the dead snake and she felt a bit sick in how it had twisted in on itself—she had never killed anything apart from a few dozen spiders before.

She could vaguely hear Luna whispering to her, telling her that it was okay now and that the snake was dead, so she could put her wand down, but it didn't sink in.

Calypso wanted her mum, she wanted her dad, she wanted Dora, hell, she wanted Akira to hug her and tell her that everything was alright because it would be easier to believe them, it would be easy to relax into them and let them take care of everything, but they weren't here—Luna was though, and she was trying.

"I killed it," she whispered numbly, and Luna's hand tightened around her right arm.

"And saved my life," a second-year Hufflepuff interrupted and took her left hand firmly to give it a good shake. "Thank you, I would have been a goner without you, especially with Potter—"

"Harry stopped the snake," Luna's hard voice snapped Calypso out of her shock.

"Lovegood— "another Hufflepuff—MacMillan, if Calypso recognised the features correctly—began in a patronising voice that Calypso hated being directed towards her and Luna—neither of them were idiots and Calypso refused to let them be treated as such.

"Luna's right," Calypso spoke up, annoyance replacing her previous shock. "If Harry hadn't distracted it, I wouldn't have been able to kill it."

The group of Hufflepuffs in front of her exchanged dubious looks and an awkward silence stretched between them.

It was obvious to Calypso that the minds of the Hufflepuffs were made up, that nothing she could say would convince them otherwise. It was also obvious that they thought Luna and herself were being fooled by Harry.

"Anyway," Finch-Fletchley, she suspected from the description Ron gave of the 'idiot Puff' that believed the rumours, cleared his throat awkwardly. "I just wanted to thank you."

"And now you have," Calypso noted, eyeing the Hufflepuffs in mild dislike.

"And now I have," Finch-Fletchley repeated before the Hufflepuffs left in a small group, all rallied around Finch-Fletchley in a protective manner.

"Things have just gotten worse for Harry, haven't they?" Luna asked softly as she eyed the groups of whispering students.

"A lot worse," Calypso acknowledged grimly, her gaze fixed on the carefully blank look on Professor Snape's face—it seemed even the Potions' Professor was disturbed by this new knowledge.

No doubt Harry will wallow because this new-found knowledge, Calypso sighed, it seemed she would need to contact Aunt Lucretia again if only so Harry wouldn't dwell on misinformation about his newly discovered ability.

* * *

Harry stared in angry disbelief at Ernie MacMillan, how dare he accuse Harry of being the Heir of Slytherin just because Harry disliked the Dursleys, no one in their right mind liked the Dursleys.

"Enough," the familiar voice of Calypso snapped in time with the sound of a book snapping shut and Harry turned to see her sat at a table just a little away from the group of Hufflepuffs—Harry felt a sliver of hurt that she had heard what they said and didn't defend him—and she glared between him and the Hufflepuffs with her dark eyes.

"Harry, calm down, getting angry will do nothing but make you look worse," Calypso ordered before she fixed her dark gaze onto Ernie. "And you, next time you decide to sprout such nonsense, please do so in your own common room. Your stupidity offends me, and has ruined my reading alone time."

"I beg your pardon?" Ernie spluttered in mild outrage—a familiar emotion when it came to Calypso, Harry had noted.

"Thank you for your apology," she said primly and without hesitation. "See that you learn from this experience."

"Listen here," Ernie straightened himself up, "I know you are taken in by Potter's fame—"

"Excuse me?" Calypso asked frostily. "Did you just imply I was a fangirl? I've never been so offended in my life."

"—but it would be for the best if you kept away from him, it's obvious he's the Heir of Slytherin—"

"Stop, you're lowering yourself to Lockhart level of stupidity and I already have to deal with enough of that sheer level of idiocy regularly and by force, I will not listen to more willingly. In case you have forgotten, Harry's late-mother was muggle-born, his best friend is a muggle-born, he shares a dorm room with a muggle-born—you'd think you would have heard something if he hated muggles and muggle-borns before now, wouldn't you? And let us not forget that it was Filch that started the rumours out of rage and grief only because Harry and his friends happened to find Mrs Norris first," Calypso glared so hard at Ernie that his chin quivered before she stood and put her book in her bag. "Come on Harry, I would hate to lose anymore brain-cells by stupid."

Harry couldn't help, but feel better when Calypso didn't hesitate to wrap one of her arms around his much like Hermione did.

"Its people like him that gives Hufflepuffs a bad name," she grumbled to him as they began to leave the library. "I hate wilful stupidity."

"You hate any type of stupidity," Harry informed her making her smile slightly in agreement before they just about ran into Hagrid. "'Lo Hagrid."

"Harry," Hagrid greeted before he peered down at Calypso. "Who's your new friend?"

"Calypso Tonks," Calypso told him as she held out her hand and Harry winced in sympathy as Hagrid gave her whole arm a powerful pump in greeting.

"Tonks, huh?" Hagrid mused as Calypso attempted to shake some of the pain out of her arm. "I remember your sister, she's a bit clumsy, isn't she?"

"More than a bit," Calypso said fondly, and Hagrid chuckled.

"What have you there?" Harry frowned at the feathery things that Hagrid was holding in one of his massive fists.

"My roosters," Hagrid lifted them, so they could see the slightly mangled remains of a couple of roosters. "Something has been killing them, don't know what though."

* * *

"So, you want to explain to Justin what really happened?" Calypso raised her eyebrows in a disbelieving way as they walked through the corridors—the Transfiguration corridor it seemed from the sounds coming from behind the doors.

"If I just explain—"

"People won't believe you, they'll continue to believe what they want to believe until they have undeniable proof shoved in their faces—sometimes they are still in denial after that," she informed him bluntly making Harry sigh in frustration just before Calypso tripped on something.

It was only because of Harry's strong grip on her arm that Calypso didn't end up sprawled over the petrified form of Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Oh god," Calypso let out a strangled whimper as she stared down, he looked like he was dead. "This isn't good."

"No, it isn't," Harry agreed grimly but his gaze was fixed on the smoky grey figure hanging in mid-air. "I think that—"

"Nearly Headless Nick," Calypso finished in a whisper, her face ashen in shock and fear. "We need to leave."

And of course, that's when Peeves arrived.

Calypso honestly didn't believe the poltergeist could actually feel fear until that moment when bone-chilling fear spread across his usually cheerful and mischievous face before he bellowed and fled down the halls, still screaming.

"ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAACK!"

Doors banged open and students rushed out with their teachers, Calypso slumped down onto her knees just in front of Justin. Calypso didn't know if she laugh or cry at the horrible luck Harry had—huh, it seemed it was crying that won out in the end.

She hated crying.

* * *

Filius Flitwick glanced between where Hufflepuff Justin Finch-Fletchley was being put on to the stretcher by Aurora and where his student, Calypso Tonks, sat on her knees with tears running down her pale face as she watched with wide dark eyes.

He glanced over to Minerva, conflicted, and she gave him a grimace while keeping one hand on Mr Potter—he knew she would have to take Mr Potter to Albus, he had been found at two attacks now, so she had too even if none of the teachers believed Mr Potter had anything to do with these attacks.

"Now you've been caught in the act!" Mr Macmillan wheezed as he came charging down the corridor, one finger pointed squarely at Mr Potter.

"Oh, shut up," Calypso Tonks hiccupped, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palms. "Don't you even care your friend is petrified? Or is being right all that matters to you?"

Filius almost wanted to smile, at least he knew that she would be alright after she got over this shock.

"That's enough, Mr Macmillan," Minerva added as the boy looked like he was going to open his mouth again. "Here, make yourself useful." With a deft movement of her wand, Minerva conjured a fan and handed it to the boy. "Please direct Sir Nick to the Hospital Wing."

Macmillan, face red, began to fan Sir Nick's smoky form towards the Hospital Wing after shooting a dirty look to both Potter and Tonks—it seemed Tonks had made another enemy, Filius mused wryly, he just hoped Macmillan wouldn't bother him with complaints about her like Lockhart did or he would have to ban the boy from his office like he had done with Lockhart.

"Miss Tonks," Minerva softened as she addressed the eleven-year-old girl. "Please go with the Professors, I'm sure Madame Pomfrey will be able to give you something for your shock."

Thankfully, the girl only nodded without comment and stood shakily with some help from Filius.

"Harry?" she asked before she took a step, dark eyes seeking out her Gryffindor friend in both question and reassurance.

"I'm afraid Mr Potter has to see Professor Dumbledore," Minerva grimaced lightly, and Tonks frowned—a far cry from the scowl, Filius had half-expected.

"But he didn't do it," she argued without her usual fire, but with her usual stubbornness. "I was with him the whole time."

"I believe both you and Mr Potter," Minerva told her, recognising the stubbornness as she had taught several Blacks in her years. "But its out of my hands."

"It's alright, Calypso," Potter added making Tonks nod a bit and finally take a step towards the stretcher.

Good, Filius wasn't happy about the colour—or rather lack of colour—of his Ravenclaw and dearly wanted Pomfrey to look over her.

* * *

Calypso had already said her goodbyes to both Luna and Neville on the trains, so when she caught sight of Akira—of course it was Akira, he would never let anyone else pick her up after all—she didn't even hesitate walking to him and then walking into his arms until her forehead was rested against his chest, she could feel his heart beat and it was soothing.

"So-chan?" Akira asked worriedly as his arms wrapped around her readily and comfortingly.

"'missed you," she whispered, and his arms tightened in a protective manner.

"I always knew you loved me best," he said in a false bright tone with over-the-top smugness and Calypso simply closed her eyes and breathed in her cousin's scent.

She was safe now, safe from the Heir of Slytherin and their monster, she was safe and almost home and it was a heady feeling that she had missed dearly.

Akira tightened his grip once again before a long moment before pulling away with a grin and reaching for her trunk, letting her carry Desdemona's carrier, and took her hand with his free hand.

"Come on," he said lightly. "Dora's going to get home before us if we don't hurry—we can't let her win."

Calypso let herself smile as Akira tugged her towards the barrier between the two worlds, she couldn't wait to see her sister, couldn't wait to hug her and fill herself with the comfort her big sister gave off.

* * *

' _Darling Calypso,_

 _Sometimes I wonder if you only write because you want something from me, too be honest I don't mind if that's the truth. At least you write to me unlike Molly's bunch, I don't think Ron has even signed the usual thank you note sent after Christmas for the last two years._

 _You also ask me such interesting things, first the Potter family and now Parseltongue, I almost can't wait for your next request though it makes me wonder what is happening at Hogwarts for you to ask these questions._

 _I'm sorry it took so long to reply, I forgotten where I put those damn books and Iggy had to help me find them, I hope they will satisfy your curiosity? They are just copies, so you can keep them of course. They are a fascinating read; its amazing how other cultures have taken to Parselmouths, especially India, Africa and Australia as they are particularly held in high regard—not surprising really with all those venomous snakes about._

 _Andi told me how much you like books, perhaps you would like to spend some time and help around my library this summer? That is if you don't have any plans with any of your new friends—you have made friends, haven't you? Or have you chased away everyone with your sharp tongue?_

 _According to Dora, you have certainly made a name for yourself when it comes to Lockhart, hope that kick to his shin hurt the little twit—don't mention that bit to your mum, or she'll say I'm just like Aunt Cassi and encouraging bad-behaviour and all that rot._

 _Keep safe,_

 _Aunt Lucretia'_

* * *

' _Harry,_

 _It seems you have made a liar out of me—I don't appreciate that, by the way. I hope you enjoy these books and they set your heart at ease and all that rot—I'm just hopeful they will stall the stupid from overtaking you when it comes to your new-found ability._

 _Try not to do anything too stupid while we are gone—hopefully Lockhart hasn't stolen all of Hermione's sense and she'll be able to keep a firm grip on both you and Ron though I'm not that hopeful too be honest considering the size of her crush. Poor girl, his power over the teenage heart is pure evil._

 _Merry Christmas,_

 _Calypso.'_

* * *

 **AN; Question, should I let Calypso be petrified or not? I hope you like this chapter.**

 **It seems most people would enjoy seeing her in the original Mass Effect trilogy and Game of Thrones—though opinions are divided in when she should be reborn into Game of Thrones and who she should be related too, I look forward to your opinions, thoughts and reasons behind your choices so please feel free to tell me.**

 **It's unlikely I'll update again this side of Christmas, so I wanted to say to all of you, Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays—whichever you prefer.**


	13. Chapter 13

Victor's bedroom was horribly warm with all the bodies squeezed into it, but it was a family tradition, so Calypso didn't complain as she settled down on Dora's lap on Victor's bed, Akira and Junior folding their tall forms on the floor while Kris took the chair to Victor's desk and bulky computer as Victor put the video into the TV—Hanako was in Japan, Cynthia had her own kids and family and Beatrix was off at university so the number wasn't a big as it had been when Dora was a kid.

"I don't know why we always watch this movie," Victor grumbled as he made his way back to his bed and settled down beside Dora. "It's not even a Christmas movie, and Caly always cries."

"I do not," Calypso objected as she pushed him with her sock-covered foot and he pushed back.

"You do, every time the mother dies the waterworks start," Victor shot back easily.

"Bambi is a tradition," Dora stated firmly. "We always watch Bambi, and so what if Caly cries? She's not the only one."

"Poor Bambi," Akira sniffed dramatically before throwing himself over Junior's shoulder with fake sobs—Junior didn't even blink as he patted his cousin and best friend on the back. "He's just so young and adorable."

"I don't mean you and you know it," Dora grumbled as she aimed a kick towards Akira's head which he dodged and led to Junior being kicked in the shoulder.

"Children, please," Junior spoke in a deadpan, shrugging his now sore shoulder. "Don't make me turn this room around."

Calypso giggled, it felt so good to be surrounded by her family and know without a doubt she was safe—an addicting feeling after spending the last two months of worry and fear in Hogwarts.

"Quiet, it's starting," Kris hissed with a glare and the room quietened down as Bambi began.

Calypso leaned back, her head resting on her sister's shoulder and Dora's arms wrapped firmly around her middle—she was happy to be home.

* * *

Calypso sat on her bed and Dora sat across from her, both of them sat Indian-style as they made their way through their chocolate advent calendar, making up for all the days they had missed—it was a tradition they started when Dora was eleven and at Hogwarts, Calypso refused to eat her daily chocolate without Dora having hers and waited impatiently for Dora to come home before tearing into the chocolate calendar, it was a tradition they would continue until Calypso finished Hogwarts.

"So," Dora sucked on her thumb lightly, dark eyes watching her sister almost tear the cardboard squares as she opened them. "When are you going to tell everyone about the Heir of Slytherin slithering around Hogwarts?"

Calypso paused for a moment, a chocolate square melting on her tongue as she stopped herself from gaping at her big sister.

"You know?" she asked in disbelief and Dora scoffed.

"'Course I know," Dora told her before raising her nose in a superior manner. "I'm your sister, I know everything."

"Madame Bones told you," Calypso deadpanned after a moment, and Dora grinned at her.

"That too," Dora admitted easily and without shame, and Calypso rolled her eyes—and their mother wondered why Calypso had no shame. "So, when are you going to open your normally big-mouth? Or are you going to attempt to keep this secret?"

The stubborn tilt of her chin told Dora her decision and Dora groaned, dismayed.

"You know this isn't going to end well, right?" she asked her stubborn little sister. "They will find out, and they will be pissed you kept it from them—especially Akira."

"It's because of Akira that I can't," Calypso explained as she fiddled with her calendar. "You know him, one hint of danger towards me and he'll go charging into Hogwarts with his wand ready."

Dora snorted at the rather true image those words conjured before sighing in defeat.

"Fine," Dora said sourly. "But you write a quick note to me every day, so I know you're okay, if you miss a day I'll join Akira in storming Hogwarts, alright?"

"Alright," Calypso agreed, she had half-expected Dora to push for her to tell everyone, but she supposed Dora could see how deep Calypso would dig in her heels and instead she decided to make sure that Calypso was safe as she could be.

"I mean it," Dora regarded her sister seriously. "Whatever's happening at Hogwarts is very dangerous, its only to stop a panic that aurors haven't already stormed Hogwarts and why it's all being kept on the downlow—the Minister doesn't want to worry the parents." There was a note of disgust in Dora's voice as she said the last bit—Fudge was still considered newly-elected as he had only been in power since last year, but he hadn't won any points with many people and only stayed in power because of Lucius Malfoy and his generous 'donations'.

"I understand," Calypso stared down at the mostly eaten calendar, remembering the fearful look frozen on Justin Finch-Fletchley's face, how his eyes stared sightlessly ahead and how dead he looked—it was only the unnatural stiffness of his body that told her he had only be petrified and wasn't dead, he had been found too soon for rigor-mortis to set in after all—and recalling the smoky motionless and soundless spectre Sir Nick had been reduced to. "I'll be careful, I promise."

"Good," Dora sighed in some relief. "You're my sister, my only sister, and I don't want to see you hurt."

"I don't want to see you hurt either," Calypso replied, and Dora smiled at her in a reassuring manner.

"Hey, I'm the big sister so it's my job to look after and worry about you," Dora then smirked and pretended to flex her muscles—even going so far as using her Metamorph ability to increase her muscle size to an almost ridiculous size normally found on body-builders of the highest calibre. "Anyway, I can take care of myself, I mean look at me!"

The breath caught in Calypso's throat at that joke and she wanted to say, no, no you can't because you die, you'll get yourself killed and Calypso still didn't know how she was going to stop it, how she was going to protect Dora, but she would, she would protect Dora because she was _her_ sister and sisters protected each other, family protected each other.

Never had Calypso been more thankful for the little enchanted ring that sat innocently on her finger, it was the only thing that stopped her own Metamorph ability from giving away her inner turmoil and she was already worrying Dora enough, she didn't need to add even more worry onto her sister's shoulders—no matter how thick and broad Dora could make them with a whim and a bit of thought.

So, Calypso just smiled weakly at Dora's silly pose.

* * *

Akira's hands kept her head steady and in one place as Dora pressed her wand against the tip of her ear.

A hiss of breath made it out of her gritted teeth as Dora muttered a spell and her ear was pierced without any hesitation, she hissed again as she felt Dora place the silver stud that connected to several chains of bells and eagle-charms into the new hole before she muttered a new spell to encourage healing.

Calypso had decided to wear the earrings that Luna sent her for Christmas—hand-made according to the note—and decided to get her ears pierced a second time just for these earrings which Akira and Dora were helping with—without their mother's knowledge, something that made Dora even more gleeful in doing it.

It's not like Calypso could go to a muggle piercing and tattoo parlour as she was grounded for her 'deplorable behaviour' at Hogwarts when it came to Lockhart—not that it really was a punishment as Calypso didn't really want to go outside and Mum hadn't banned her from visiting the rest the family.

Aunt Cassi had beamed as she handed over an agate beaded necklaces covered in protective runes and promised her one book from her private library if Calypso would give her the memory of her kicking the twit almost the second Calypso stepped through the Floo—Calypso gladly did and was happily part-way through Aunt Cassi's journal of several Egyptian Tombs and digs she had done after the war against Grindelwald, it was fascinating.

"Okay, turn," Dora ordered, and Akira's grip loosened enough for Calypso to turn her head before his grip hardened as Dora placed her wand on the tip of Calypso's other ear.

* * *

Calypso, overall, had been looking forward to the Christmas holidays and time with her family, she just hadn't been looking forward to New Years.

She would be facing her first ever ball, a New Years Ball that would publicly announce to magical Britain that she would be Lady Black come maturity—the first Lady Black in at least ten generations, if Calypso remembered correctly.

It meant dressing up in a ball-gown made of dark red velvet with a princess skirt and encrusted with red, black, blue and white semi-precious stones that had been hand-sewn on—the colours of House Black—and it meant wearing a fortune of coloured diamonds that Lord Arcturus had so carelessly handed over—she would be wearing such a fortune that Calypso could probably feed a small starving country for at least a year—and having her mother spend hours getting her hair just so.

It meant she would have to smile and greet each guest—people she wouldn't like and probably would never like—and she would have to accept each offer to dance—she had hated her dance lessons—because it would be rude to refuse, and Lord Arcturus would be watching.

Calypso was thankful of two little things when it came to the ball; one, that Lord Arcturus had allowed her to invite a several people she wanted without a complaint—though he had made an interesting face when she penned a quick invite to Luna and her father as soon as she could—and two, that dear cousin Draco had decided the Heir of Slytherin was more important than her.

It would be the biggest gathering of the Sacred Twenty-Eight in the two decades, several high-ranked individuals would also be there, and Lord Arcturus had made it clear that Calypso was meant to play 'nice'—Dora had snorted in laughter at hearing that order and seeing the long-suffering look on Lord Arcturus' aged face as Calypso simply replied that she would try.

The things she did for family.

* * *

Lord Arcturus held Calypso's hand in the crook of his elbow as they slowly made their way around the large and lavish ballroom of Black hall and he introduced the guests to Calypso—it was as much an assurance as it was a restraint, Calypso had quickly realised.

Lucretia Prewett nee Black and her husband, Ignatius Prewett, had been the first to descend upon them—Lucretia beaming at her father before telling Calypso how much fun they would have the few weeks that she was staying with them this summer with Ignatius promising to share with her some of his experiments—the safer ones he had hasten to add under the withering glare of his father-in-law.

Pollux Black and his wife, Irma Black nee Crabbe—her great-grandparents—had greeted Arcturus stiffly and Pollux's eye had twitched violently as he greeted her as Heiress Black while Irma had eyed the curls Calypso had inherited from her with an odd look on her face as if she wasn't sure what to make by the obvious relation between them.

Lysander Crouch—daughter of Charis Crouch nee Black—had thankfully drifted over by then and allowed Pollux and Irma to retreat before it became more awkward. Lysander had spent her time quizzing Calypso over the languages she knew before commenting that it would do for now before wandering off without much more—the way she had done that had reminded Calypso strongly of Luna for some reason.

Lord Lucius Malfoy and his wife, Narcissa Malfoy nee Black—dearest Uncle and Auntie—were next, Narcissa with a stiff smile and Lucius with cold disapproval and mild anger in his eyes as they greeted the Heiress Black.

Misters Crabbe and Goyle, sans their wives, ambled behind the blonde couple without complaint that reminded Calypso strongly of their sons and Draco—both Crabbe and Goyle were vassals of the Noble House of Malfoy after all so it wasn't surprisingly really.

After that it was a continuing line of people; Lord Phaeton Parkinson, his surprisingly nice wife Violet, and their daughter Pansy.

Lord Elijah Macmillan, his wife Mercy and their son, Ernest—Ernie had almost scowled as they shook hands, it was clear he still disliked her which was fine by her as she wasn't fond of him in return.

Lord Mason Bulstrode and his daughter, Millicent—dresses looked almost as awkward on Millicent's broad form as Millicent obviously felt by the way she fidgeted under everyone's gaze.

Lady Abigail Abbot and her niece, Hannah—Hannah was apparently heir apparent at the moment as Lady Abbot had yet to marry and it looked unlikely that she would birth any children of her own.

Lord Bartemius Crouch Senior had nodded shortly at them, dark eyes watching the form of his sister as Lysander made herself known to several friends and such—the siblings had been estranged since Barty began to distance himself from their mother's family.

Lord Actaeon Carrow and his twin daughters, Flora and Hestia—he was the brother of the infamous Carrow twins, Alecto and Amycus.

Lord Darius Flint, his wife Thalia and their son, Marcus—Thalia Flint was very petite next to the towering frames of her husband and son.

Lord Stephen Fawley and his children, Sabrina and Sullivan—all three of them had the same light brown eyes and caramel coloured hair.

Lord Perses Greengrass and his daughter Daphne—his wife was at home with his youngest daughter, Astoria, apparently.

Lady Dowager Augusta Longbottom and Neville—Calypso had enjoyed the few moments she had been able to chat with her cousin before Lord Arcturus swept her towards the next guest.

Elderly Lord Theodore Nott Senior and his son, Theodore Nott Junior—Senior was rumoured to have been one of the Dark Monster's first followers and Junior was his third son, the eldest killed during the war and the middle brother was in Azkaban, both had been Death Eaters.

Elderly Lord Abraham and Augustina Prewett—grandparents of Ron and his siblings—were accompanied by Muriel Prewett—Ron's dreaded Great-Aunt Muriel.

Professor Horace Slughorn—former Head of Slytherin and former Potions' Master of Hogwarts.

Elderly Septimus Weasley and his wife, Cedrella Weasley nee Black—grandparents and great-grandparents of the newest generations of Weasleys, the only ones of the Sacred Twenty-Eight without a Lordship as they were tricked out of that and their fortune by the Malfoy family which started the blood-feud between said families.

And finally of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Lord Corban Yaxley—a Death Eater that had escaped Azkaban.

But that meant the start of the other guests;

Minister Cornelius Fudge and his Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge—Calypso thought it was interesting that his wife was no where in sight and Madame Umbridge reminded her of a toad.

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had been invited and had smiled merrily at her, easily hiding whatever turmoil he felt about the events unfolding at Hogwarts from sight.

Newt Scamander and his wife, Tina Scamander nee Goldstein—Calypso had pointed out where she saw Luna in her glitzy silver dress and suggested he speak with her as Luna was a budding magizoologist and Newt Scamander had cheerfully headed towards the Lovegood duo with Tina smiling as she followed.

Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt—Dora's partner—greeted her calmly with his deep soothing voice and seemed uncaring that Dora was hanging from one of his arms, her hair a blinding white that was striking against the red of her dress—it was unfair that Dora didn't have to wear all of the Black family colours like Calypso had to, something that Dora delighted in teasing her about and how it sucked that being the youngest, didn't it Calypso?

After that, the names started to blur together, her head started to hurt, and her cheeks ached from smiling so much.

Thankfully, Lord Arcturus released her from her hostess duties and allowed her to make a bee-line to Luna's group as quickly as she could in the heeled shoes she was wearing—unfortunately, a scowling Ernie Macmillan stopped her and sullenly asked her for a dance under the encouraging smile of his mother.

Calypso bit back a groan and plastered a smile on her face as she graciously accepted his so-kind offer—she hated balls, Calypso decided as she took Ernie's hand.

* * *

It was only after she had danced with Ernie Macmillan, Marcus Flint, Sullivan Fawley, Neville, Theo Nott and finally Akira—because he was annoyance that delighted in annoying her—that she was finally able to escape to Luna's side.

"You looked very graceful," Luna complimented with a small smile at the disgruntled look on Calypso's face.

"I hate balls," Calypso announced lowly, and Newt Scamander laughed in delight making her aware that Luna hadn't been alone. "Mister Scamander, Missus Scamander, Mister Lovegood."

"So, this is my little moon's friend and star of the ball?" Mister Lovegood beamed down at her and she shook his hand easily. "We must thank you for an invite—this is a lot better than we expected."

Calypso smiled at the casual blunt honesty that Mister Lovegood wielded without a care—she knew she would like him—before turning to Newt Scamander.

"I have a question," Calypso began and carefully bit her lip that her mum had painted with some lipstick. "What serpent creature has the ability to petrify people?"

Newt Scamander blinked once, startled, before turning thoughtful while Tina Scamander regarded her sharply—reminding Calypso that the woman had once been an auror in her youth.

"Well, Gorgons are the most obvious but I'm sure you're not asking about them," Newt muttered to himself. "And you say petrify people? Have these people looked directly into the creatures' eyes? If not, then I would suggest a basilisk."

Luna paled, and Calypso wavered slightly before promptly turning on her heels and rushing towards where she could just see Professor Dumbledore's hat over the crowd.

Newt Scamander's suggestion made a horrible amount of sense—it also rung a bell in the back of her head—and she thought back to all the previous victims—Colin with his camera, Justin with Sir Nick, the corridor had been partly flooded where Mrs Norris was found—and she felt sick because there was a basilisk slithering around Hogwarts—hadn't Hagrid complained about his roosters being killed? Someone had killed them, so the basilisk could move freely without fear.

She gasped as she grabbed hold of silvery sleeve of Professor Dumbledore who peered down at her with curious blue eyes behind his glasses while Professor Slughorn waffled in mild alarm at the lack of colour in her cheeks.

"Basilisk," she gasped out as she tightened her grip. "It's a basilisk!"

Immediately Professor Dumbledore's face became alarmed as he realised what she was talking about and he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you sure, my dear girl?" he asked urgently, and Calypso nodded, still hunched in slightly from her mad dash between guests.

"I asked Mister Scamander," Calypso told him, reflecting she was either severely unfit or fear had attacked her more fiercely than she thought—either way, Calypso was seriously considering taking up running. "Hagrid's roosters have all been killed."

Professor Dumbledore's lips tightened into a grim line as he nodded.

"I see," he said grimly. "Thank you for this and this lovely party, but it seems I'm needed elsewhere."

Calypso simply nodded as she unlatched herself from Professor Dumbledore's sleeve and watched as he made his goodbyes before leaving the ballroom at a quick pace.

"What was all that about?" Professor Slughorn asked in bafflement and Calypso shook her head—best not cause a panic, Lord Arcturus would never forgive her.

She was just hopeful that Professor Dumbledore could sort it all out before she returned to Hogwarts, but she had a horrible feeling he wouldn't be able to and that maybe this could make things worse.

* * *

 **AN: Yeah, so here's a holiday treat for you. I hope you like this new chapter.**

 **Thank you for all of your reviews, someone asked for OC/SI fic in KHR-verse and I'm wondering if they want Calypso or a whole new person for that fic as either way I'll need to refresh my memory of the series.**

 **I'm torn between heading to Thedas with Calypso next and taking her far away in Mass Effect—your opinions are welcomed and sorely needed!**

 **I also have yet to decide on any pairings, so if you see pairings forming or the possibility of pairings forming please let me know so I can decide if I want to continue with said pairing. Also, if you have ideas of what pairings you'd like to see, I'll think about it and see how it would fit in my story—but please note, in the end I will decide which pairings will work so please don't be disappointed if your favourite pairing isn't showcased.**


	14. Chapter 14

Desdemona flicked her tail innocently as Calypso levelled a glare up to where her cat sat on the top of her towering bookcase.

"You are so annoying," Calypso told her cat and Desdemona gave a smug sounding purr in return. "I will not miss the train because of you."

Calypso took of her enchanted ring and placed it on her side-board before she concreted on her increasing her height with a grimace as she felt her bones, muscles and skin change solely because of her will.

"Ha," Calypso said in victory as she snatched the troublesome feline from her perch and Desdemona's ears flattened as she hissed at her, her claws unsheathing threateningly. "Don't even think about it."

"You know," Dora mused from the doorway, her hair a gentle shade of lavender—a rather subdue shade when it came to her sister. "Akira would have gotten you a different pet if you told him how much you disliked the cat."

"He stared at me so hopefully when he asked if I liked her," Calypso grumbled as she pushed Desdemona into her carrier. "I couldn't break his heart."

Dora snorted in disbelief as Calypso locked the door and Desdemona glared between the mesh at her.

"Right," Dora drawled, and Calypso glared at her sister as she carefully returned to her normal height and replaced her enchanted ring.

"It's true," she insisted, and Dora just raised her eyebrows in more disbelief making Calypso huff in annoyance. "Fine, don't believe me, see if I care."

"You're so cute when you're grumpy," Dora mockingly cooed at her, and Calypso scowled—only Akira could say that to her, and he actually meant it! "You're going to be careful, right?"

Calypso looked up at Dora's suddenly serious tone and saw how serious Dora had turned.

"Don't think I missed your sudden dash towards Dumbledore," Dora told her with a hint of a frown. "Just because you know what it is, doesn't mean any of the danger has lessened. A cornered enemy can be the most dangerous one."

"I know," Calypso replied seriously, because she did know.

A cornered animal always lashed out fiercely, a cornered enemy would no doubt do the same, and if Dumbledore announced that he knew what the creature was then some of the mystique of the Heir of Slytherin and his actions would be gone.

The fear was so high because no one knew what monster, what creature, the so-called Heir was using against them. It was also why so many were so determined for Harry to be the Heir of Slytherin, because if it was Harry then they had a face, then they didn't have the fear an unknown attacker—it was stupid, but fear often was.

Calypso thought that with some of the mystique gone, the fear of the unknown taken, that the Heir of Slytherin would most likely lash out, violently, to claw back the fear, to make them regret attempting to unmask them.

That was something she dreaded actually, she dreaded the Heir taking these attacks to another level. Four victims have already been claimed; Mrs Norris, Colin Creevey, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Sir Nick. One cat, two students and one ghost.

How many victims would the Heir's anger claim? Would all the victims be lucky enough to avoid death? She didn't know and that scared her, she hated not knowing.

Knowledge was power, she was a firm believer of that, and she didn't know enough—didn't remember enough—about the Heir of Slytherin to feel confident in how all this would work out.

She just felt—knew—that Harry would be involved in stopping the Heir and she didn't know if she could bring herself to stand by his side when he did—she was still so scared.

And if she did, if she took that step and stood beside him as he confronted the Heir, she knew she would never be able to step back, to step away, she wouldn't be able to get out once she was in.

That was the trouble with being friends with someone like Harry, she supposed, to be friends with a 'hero' or at least with someone who had a hero-complex, there would always be danger even if they didn't seek it out.

"Here," Dora said breaking her from her thoughts and she threw something at Calypso.

It was only because of years of knife-throwing and such that allowed Calypso to grab the flying object before it could pelt her in the face.

"Sunglasses?" Calypso questioned dubiously as she turned the blue-mirror sunglasses in her hand, the lens was circular, and the frames was silver.

"You need something between you and its gaze, right?" Dora asked. "That should protect you from death."

"Thanks," Calypso said as she turned to the mirror and perched the glasses on the top of her head—ready to be pulled down and onto her face whenever she needed them. "I won't leave my room without them."

"Good," Dora said firmly. "Now let's go before you miss the train."

* * *

The Platform wasn't as crowded as it was in September, but it was still too crowded for her liking—people, bleh.

Luna's cool fingers curled around her left wrist before Calypso could enter the compartment that Dora had placed her trunk in and Calypso glanced down to see the stars-and-moon charm bracelet that she had given Luna for Christmas hanging from Luna's slim and pale wrist.

"Caly," Luna greeted with a smile and Calypso smiled back.

"Lu," she greeted back, and Luna smiled brighter at the use of a nickname as they entered the compartment together.

Calypso placed Desdemona's carrier on one of the seats before Luna and herself took their own seats across from the carrier—Desdemona's amber eyes glared at them from behind the mesh.

"Did you enjoy Christmas?" Calypso asked, pointedly staying away from the subject of the Heir of Slytherin and their basilisk.

"It was nice to spend time with Daddy again," Luna said agreeably, silently acknowledging Calypso's cue. "Your party was more interesting than I had thought it would be—I enjoyed speaking with Mister Scamander."

"I'm glad you did," Calypso smiled. "Mister Scamander always has the best stories."

"I've decided to take Care for Magical Creatures come third year," Luna decided before looking at Calypso, almost hopefully. "Will you take it with me?"

"Sure," Calypso decided after a moment. "It should be interesting; I'll be taking Runes as well, I'm not sure what other course I would like to take—I think I would like to take another course as well, but I'm not sure what yet."

"Runes would be interesting," Luna mused to herself.

"I already have a firm grounding in them because of Aunt Cassi," Calypso told her. "So, we could study them early if you want? So, we can be on the same level."

Luna smiled happily at the thought and nodded.

* * *

Mirrors was the first thing that Calypso noticed as she entered Hogwarts, they looked out of place next to moving portraits and landscapes that normally decorated the hallways of Hogwarts, but they were strangely reassuring to Calypso—they lowered the possibility of death after all, so she was all for them.

Luna gave a happy hum at the sight of the mirrors as she pulled Calypso along, and they entered the Great Hall.

Calypso glanced towards the Gryffindor table and felt her eyes narrow at the lack of familiar bushy hair before clocking Harry and Ron's unconcerned face—wherever Hermione was, she was alright—and simply took her place beside Luna.

"Do you think the Headmaster will say anything?" Luna asked curiously, and Calypso frowned thoughtfully.

"I don't know," she admitted softly. "He may not just to stop causing a panic."

Luna nodded thoughtfully as she eyed the filling Hall as they waited impatiently for the feast to begin.

It turned out that Calypso was right, Dumbledore made no mention of the basilisk and pointedly didn't mention the new mirrors despite the curious whispers Calypso overheard about them.

She wasn't sure it was wise of him, but bit her lip to keep her comments to herself—she resolved to tell Harry and the others tomorrow, she felt they needed to know or something bad could happen.

* * *

Calypso looked up from her book when she heard Harry and Ron settle across from her and sent them both a frown when she saw Hermione was once again not with them.

"What did you do?" she accused, and Ron looked offended while Harry looked slightly sheepish.

"Why do you always think we've done something?" Ron asked almost hotly, and she fixed him with a deadpanned look.

"Because nine times out of ten, you have done something," she commented blandly. "Where's Hermione? What's wrong with her?"

To her surprise and confusion, Ron actually sniggered at the question and Harry ducked to hide a slight smile.

"You could say she's getting declawed," Harry finally said, and she frowned at him.

"What the bloody hell is that meant mean?" she asked in great confusion—briefly grateful her mother couldn't hear the language that just left her mouth—and Harry leaned forward to whisper what happened. "You three are idiots."

Harry shrugged unconcerned while Ron scowled slightly at her words.

"Did you get anything useful from my darling cousin?" she asked, and Harry blanched as he looked at her in shock.

"Malfoy's your cousin?" he asked in disbelief while Ron blinked at Harry in mild shock.

"Oh yeah," Ron muttered, "forgot to tell you that."

"Yes, unfortunately," Calypso decided to answer, she wasn't surprised that Ron knew of her relation to Malfoy, the Weasleys were still purebloods and still considered one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight after all.

"But you are nothing like him," Harry blurted, and Calypso raised her eyebrows at him.

"Are you anything like _your_ cousin?" she asked pointedly, and he grimaced as he acknowledged her point.

"We found out where the Malfoys' hide their illegal objects," Ron said gleefully, and Calypso understood that emotion easily.

It was well-known that Arthur Weasley had been ruthlessly attempting to get Lucius Malfoy on something over the years. Arthur Weasley had never been fooled by Lucius Malfoy's claims of Imperius and refused to let him get off scot-free, and pursued him doggedly despite the lack of respect the Weasley name earned and the low-opinion other people held when it came to Arthur's job and hobbies.

(Aunt Cassi always cut out the news-paper clipping when Arthur Weasley got a fine slapped onto Lucius Malfoy's hands with a delighted chuckle—apparently, she had a grudge against Brutus Malfoy II that had transferred to his son, Abraxas Malfoy, and then his grandson, Lucius)

"At least you learnt something important," she commented with a hint of a smirk, and Ron grinned back at her.

"So, how was your holiday?" Ron prompted. "You learn anything interesting?"

"I know what Slytherin's monster is," she leaned forward and said lowly, and took a bit of enjoyment in how both boys' jaws dropped at her announcement.

"How?" Ron spluttered. "Hermione doesn't even have an idea."

It was almost cute that Ron automatically thought Hermione should know, that he held her in such high regard.

"What is it?" Harry leaned forward with an intent look on his face.

"A basilisk," she told him and almost sighed at the look of confusion that settled on their faces—honestly, didn't they read their course books? It was in Fantastic Beasts and Where to find them, a first-year book. "The basilisk, also known as the King of Serpents, is a highly dangerous snake. It has a deadly venom that only has one cure—Phoenix tears—and their gaze can kill with one direct look."

"And no one has looked at it directly in its eyes," Harry said lowly, "that's why no one's dead."

"Luckily," she nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, but how long is that going to last?" Ron frowned.

"Hopefully till all this mess is over," she commented. "It's why Professor Dumbledore has put up all those mirrors."

"But he didn't say anything," Harry frowned.

"Perhaps he didn't want to cause a panic?" she offered though it seemed a bit weak now she had slept on the idea, and Ron snorted.

"Bloody mental that," he said bluntly, "there's already a panic going around."

"And they still think I'm behind it," Harry added glumly.

"You can't help human stupidity," she dismissed, and Harry almost smiled at that.

* * *

January was suspiciously quiet in Calypso's opinion, there was no attack and Harry hadn't heard any more of those strange whispers.

February began, and the stupidity of Lockhart struck again on the fourteenth.

* * *

Before Lockhart could embarrass Flitwick like he had Snape, Calypso's appalled voice rang out over the dim of the Great Hall.

"He's encouraging rape, Luna!"

Everything halted, Lockhart's mouth dropped open in disbelieving shock, and heads to where Calypso was slowly focused on her friend.

"I already had a low-opinion of him, but I didn't think he was so low enough to encourage rape amongst minors," Calypso ranted, not noticing or not caring that everyone was staring.

"I don't think he meant to do that," Luna said mildly as she glanced around without much concern.

"He told them to learn to make love-potions, Luna— _love-potions_ ," she repeated in disgust. "Only a loathsome individual would use a love-potion on someone they claim to care for—they take away free-will, strips them of their right to say no! And he suggested it like its just a bit of _fun_!

Like people couldn't—and wouldn't—abuse them to have sex with someone they claim to love! Like that isn't rape! And the victim! When they are cured from the potion, the trauma will be so much worse! Not only have they been raped, abused by someone they may or may not know, but their memories will insist that they enjoyed it!

And that's without thinking of the possibility of bloodline-theft or coercing a marriage! It's terrible, Luna, and he just—" Calypso broke off like she didn't know how to continue, looking sick and angry.

There was a stilted silence that hovered of the Hall then as everyone took in the horrible truth of Calypso Tonks' words, and almost as one, heads turned towards a horrified Lockhart.

"I-I-I didn't mean that," Lockhart stuttered as he waved his hands almost frantically before clearing his throat. "Anyway," he attempted to distract them, "some friends of mine has kindly offered to deliver your valentines, can I introduce our very own cupids?"

The doors opened, and a dozen grumpy dwarves marched in with false wings and overly large nappies armed with a faux gold bow and arrow.

"Oh dear," Luna said in mild shock, grey eyes wide.

"You poor buggers," Calypso commented with sympathy clear in her tone—summing up the thoughts of a lot of people.

"Miss Tonks!" Professor McGonagall finally broke in. "Language!"

"Sorry, Professor," Calypso automatically said without much feeling, still staring with sympathy at the poor dwarves.

* * *

 **AN: So, I completely rewrote this chapter as my first attempt was horrible and seemed like I was attempting to just speed through things. But, we are coming to an end of the Chamber of Secrets soon, I don't know how many more chapters I'll spend on it, but I will be wrapping it up soon. I hope you have enjoyed this chapter.**

 **Most people seem to be interested in seeing Calypso go on to Mass Effect or Game of Thrones, I was planning of doing Dragon Age next, but I'm being swayed towards either doing Mass Effect or Game of Thrones, more towards Mass Effect because I think Game of Thrones would need quite a bit of research, but I'm eager to know which you would prefer.**

 **Mass Effect, Femshep; Earthborn, Colonist or Spacer?**


	15. Chapter 15

Harry Potter stared down at the innocent-looking diary in disbelief before discarding it with an angry toss of his hand.

How dare he, Harry seethed inwardly, how dare Riddle accuse Hagrid! Was it because of Riddle that Hagrid had been expelled? But how could anyone believe that Hagrid was the Heir of Slytherin? He didn't have a mean bone in his body!

But what really got Harry, that made him feel guilty and sick, was if it wasn't for Calypso figuring out the creature was a basilisk then Harry could well have believed Riddle, could have distrusted his first friend and rashly blame him. Not that Harry could ever think that Hagrid would intentionally hurt people, but Hagrid was well known for his odd fondness for dangerous creatures and it was horribly easy to envision one of them harming someone while Hagrid claimed they were cute creatures that were simply misunderstood—strangely he mentally heard the disbelieving snort of Calypso as that thought crossed his mind.

Whatever manner of beast that Hagrid was raising fifty-odd years ago, it sure wasn't a basilisk and thus never hurt or killed anyone—at least back then, Merlin knows what happened to it after it escaped during Riddle and Hagrid's fight.

"Harry?" Ron asked as he stepped through the doorway of their dorm room. "What's up?"

"Hagrid was framed!" Harry burst out and Ron merely blinked in confusion before reply;

"Sure, he was," Ron accepted immediately in a way that made Harry all the fonder of his best friend before he continued with a hint of hesitation, "what was he framed for?"

"Being the Heir of Slytherin!" Harry jumped up and began to pace angrily. "That's why he was expelled all those years ago."

"Hagrid? The Heir of Slytherin?" Ron snorted in disbelief. "I'm mean sure, he's mental when it comes to creatures, but there is nothing remotely Slytherin about him—he can't even lie or hide any secrets!"

"I know," Harry nodded, happy that Ron was on his side. "But Riddle blamed him because Hagrid was raising one of his pets," he paused, and he and Ron shared a resignedly understanding look at the mention of one of Hagrid's pets, "and Hagrid was expelled for it."

"Blimely," Ron shook his head, "how did you find this out?"

Harry paused and wavered in uncertainty as he didn't know how to explain just how he got the information.

Ron had been distrustful of the diary from the start and only calmed down when Hermione couldn't reveal anything mundane or magical about it and just thought it was an odd blank diary that Harry was strangely obsessing over for no reason. If Harry revealed just what the diary was capable of, then he was certain that Ron would want to get rid of it and despite Riddle's lies, Harry was reluctant to part with it.

"Harry," Ron's blue eyes narrowed, and his tone was far too much like Hermione's for Harry's comfort. "How did you find this out?"

"The diary," he finally admitted in defeat and Ron's eyes narrowed into distrustful slits as he eyed the diary discarded on Harry's bed. "Riddle put his memories in it, he showed me."

"Harry," Ron almost yelped in alarm as he reached forward and jerked Harry away from the diary as if he was sure that diary was going to attack them at any moment. "That's not right! That's, it must be Dark Magic! Harry, we can't trust it! We need to get rid of it!"

"It's just memories," Harry said in confusion as Ron almost herded him away from his bed. "What's dark about that?"

"What's dark about that?" Ron spluttered in disbelief. "People just don't go around ripping out their memories and stuffing them in books! There's always a reason behind it and it's rarely good! It's why you have to be careful with strange books! They could be cursed or hexed or whatever! We should have left it in the bloody toilets!"

"So, what? We give it to Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked in mild disbelief. "He's already busy enough with the Heir business going on now, are we really going to bother him because of a diary?"

"Fine," Ron snapped with gritted teeth, glaring at the diary. "We'll take it to Calypso then."

"Calypso?" Harry questioned in disbelieving shock. "Why Calypso?"

"She's the Black Heiress," Ron told him like that was meant to mean something. "And the Blacks didn't get their reputation by being nice."

"What—?" Harry cut himself off, if he wanted to know then he would ask her for himself, Harry decided.

"She'll know what to do or know someone that can deal with it," Ron nodded firmly. "Put it away till tomorrow, Calypso already holed herself up in her dorm—we'll give it to her after class when she's in the library."

Calypso had a routine that she followed, after class she and Luna would go to the library and do their homework and help Neville with his—Calypso, despite her blunt-manner, was actually nicer when it came to helping others with their homework than Hermione, but then again it could because she considered Neville family and he was the only one she helped—only to return after dinner to delve into Runes with Hermione eagerly joining the two younger girls until twenty-to-nine where Calypso and Luna would return to their dorm for the night, it was her week-day routine that granted her a mostly free weekend to do with what she willed—which was often enough sleeping until lunch.

Unfortunately for them, tomorrow after class they would return to retrieve the diary only to find their room almost completely trashed and the diary gone.

* * *

Merely two days after Valentine's day, the Heir of Slytherin returned with a vengeance and petrified three students over the next week.

Calypso rather morbidly wondered if it was because of the affront Lockhart had caused with his 'grand' plan involving the day that invoked such anger in the Heir—if so, she could almost understand their anger, having that much pink around was monstrous and those poor dwarves.

Calypso had once mentioned her thought out loud and it had actually made Harry laugh before they were both reprimanded by Hermione for their 'sick' joke, her face was pinched with disapproval and her shrill tone pitched low as she furiously told them that it wasn't funny.

Hagrid was soon taken to Azkaban by the Ministry, and Harry had told in a low furious tone what Minister Fudge had said; 'they had to been seen doing something'.

The morning after Professor Dumbledore announced that he was being suspended, and Calypso was disgusted to see the superior sneer on Draco Malfoy's face as he watched Professor Dumbledore leave as turmoil took over the Great Hall—how could someone be so wilfully blind of reality? Calypso thought to herself before she remembered Lockhart and dismissed the silly thought.

Fear reached a whole new height without Dumbledore, his presence bought comfort and security to the students, and all that was gone, ripped away because of Lucius Malfoy and his blackmailing-ways from the way Draco Malfoy strutted about like he owned the place—his arrogance was sickening, how his parent allowed him to be such a spoiled brat, Calypso didn't know.

Calypso spent her twelfth birthday in a school shrouded by fear and only half-heartedly opened her presents, so she could send the usual thankful notes—though she was mildly amused to note that somehow Kris had been able to sneak a dagger through Hogwarts' wards, Mum was going to flip.

* * *

Luna heaved with great sobs, arms wrapped tightly around Calypso's middle and Calypso kept one arm wrapped secure around her waist in return though her gaze remained fixed on where Hermione lay frozen on one bed with Penelope Clearwater lay on the bed next to her.

"Hermione," Ron muttered, blue eyes wide as he took a great stumbling step towards his friend, Madame Pomfrey stopping him from actually touching her.

"What happened?" Harry almost demanded, green eyes narrowed in anger, and Professor McGonagall pursed her lips at his tone, but said nothing.

"Hermione came rushing into the library," Calypso began, feeling numb. "She was exclaiming about how stupid we all were, that it was obvious now that she thought about it."

"What was that then?" Harry asked as he turned to them, finally taking his gaze off Hermione.

"Pipes," Luna sobbed, "she was saying something about the pipes."

"She said she had to tell you," Calypso added before her tone changed to almost a pleading tone, pleading with him to understood why she hadn't done more to stop Hermione, pleading with him for forgiveness for staying passive as Hermione was petrified, "I told her not to walk the corridors alone, it's not safe, and Luna offered to walk with her."

"We met Clearwater in the corridor," Luna sniffed, one hand releasing Calypso slightly to rub at her teary eyes. "There was hissing, and Hermione pushed me behind them, told me to close my eyes, Clearwater was panicking, I think Hermione was trying to calm her down but then it all went quiet and I could feel it slithering passed us—I opened my eyes after I was sure it was gone, and they were both petrified."

"The mirrors saved them," Calypso finished almost weakly, and Hermione had saved Luna from sharing their fate—foolish Gryffindor, Calypso thought to herself as tears burnt at the back of her eyes.

"Pipes?" Ron repeated, choked, "what the bleeding hell was she on about?"

Calypso shook her head, she couldn't think at the moment, and Harry let out a frustrated sigh as he turned away from them, one hand reaching up to run through his hair.

"Back to the dorms," Professor McGonagall spoke up behind them, a slight choke to her words. "It's not safe outside anymore."

Calypso was too numb with shock to argue that it hadn't been safe since Halloween and Mrs Norris, it was just harder to deny now without the image of protection that Professor Dumbledore projected.

McGonagall first escorted Luna and herself to the Ravenclaw Tower before herding Harry and Ron towards Gryffindor Tower with hunched shoulders.

Calypso and Luna ended up sharing one of the beds, both needing the comfort, and they fell asleep relatively easy—worn out by what happened, no doubt.

* * *

Calypso ended up waking up to Desdemona batting at her and her mind whirling with her dreams.

"Of course," Calypso breathed as she sat up, dazed by her realisation. "The pipes!"

How stupid had she been! Hermione was right! It was obvious now she thought about it! How else could a basilisk move around the castle unseen? But where was the entrance? Where was the pipes entrance to the Chamber?

Where was the first attack? Calypso thought back to Halloween, the sinister words, Mrs Norris hanging from one of the torches, the wet floor—the wet floor! Where had the water come from?

"Moaning Myrtle's toilets!" she realised and quickly left the bed to dress, leaving Luna to sleep off her shock as she grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, pausing only to strap her wand to her right forearm and strapping her dagger to her belt before she left the dorm briskly while shrugging on a jumper—leaving Desdemona sat beside her empty food bowl with a disgruntled meow.

She had to get to Harry, had to tell him!

It would only be later that Calypso would wonder why she thought to tell Harry before any teachers, had she been taken in by the myth of the Boy-Who-Lived after all? Was she more affected by Lockhart's stupidity than she thought? Or was she driven by half-forgotten knowledge about a possible future?

Calypso didn't know, and that frustrated her greatly because she had been stupid, and she didn't know why.

* * *

' _Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever….'_

Calypso stared at the message with wide eyes before she rushed towards Moaning Myrtle's toilets at full speed—she needed to stop hanging around Gryffindors, she inwardly despaired, she wasn't a hero damn it all!

Calypso didn't know how long she was searching the toilets, Myrtle watching her curiously, when Lockhart came stumbling through the door followed by Harry and Ron with their wands raised.

"Calypso?" Harry asked, baffled.

"Harry!" Calypso greeted hurriedly, "the entrance, it's here, somewhere!"

"How'd you figure that out?" Ron asked in shock though his wand didn't waver from where it was pointing at Lockhart—was that Spell-o-tape holding it together? Calypso thought with a double-take as it was the first time she had seen Ron's wand.

"Pipes, Mrs Norris," she vaguely explained before gesturing sharply at Lockhart—he actually flinched away from her in a way that would raise her ego any other time. "What's he doing here?"

"He was trying to run away," Ron told her hotly, blue eyes narrowed. "He was going to leave my sister to die."

"Ginny? Ginny's the one in the Chamber?" Calypso asked in shock as she looked between the two boys.

"How don't you know?" Harry was even more baffled.

"I've been searching for the gods-be-damned entrance!" she snapped back, irked by his tone.

"Why didn't you just ask Myrtle?" Harry asked, and she opened her mouth to snap something back before closing her mouth with a scowl—she had no answer for that, and would only say she was panicking in her defence, it wasn't like she had done anything this stupidly brave and heroic before. "Myrtle? Can you tell us how you died?"

Myrtle's ghostly face lit up as she drifted closer.

"Oh, it was terrible, Harry," she began with relish, obviously happy to share, and Calypso got a first-hand account of how irrational and vengeful teenager girls could be—seriously, she blamed her bully for her death and haunted her for the rest of her life? And then when said bully finally kicked the bucket, she decided to come back and haunt the very toilets she died in? What was wrong with people? How did any of that make sense?

Calypso strode over to the sinks and began to inspect them before finally spotting the tiny carved snake on one of the taps.

"Here, it's here," she called and the boys—plus Lockhart—shuffled over and Harry frowned at the carving. "Bet you that Parseltongue could get us in."

"I don't know when I'm speaking it," Harry admitted almost sheepishly, and Calypso almost sighed because of course he didn't, why did she think it was going to be easy?

"Lucky we're here to tell you then," Ron decided, and Harry nodded with a determined look on his face.

"Open," Harry tried, and Ron shook his head;

"English,"

"Try thinking of it as a real snake," Calypso suggested, and Harry nodded before he hissed in a way that made Lockhart whimper and the hairs to stand up on the back of her neck, and the sinks trembled as they broke apart and the snake-carved one sunk into the floor to reveal a massive hole.

"It seems you have got this," Lockhart said in a wavering tone, "I'll just go then and leave you to it."

Immediately he was faced with three wands and three scowling faces, it was almost pitiful how he coward from three twelve-year-olds.

"So, you really are as much of a coward as you are a fool," Calypso said in disgust.

"You were right along, Calypso," Harry added, "he's a fraud, he admitted to it."

"I'm not surprised," Calypso replied dryly, and Lockhart glared at her almost hatefully.

"You almost ruined everything," Lockhart declared, fury and hate twisting his features into something ugly. "Shouting to all that cared to listen about me being a fraud, me being arrogant, me being untalented! You, a silly little girl, should have kept your mouth shut!"

"What I said was all true," Calypso retorted without missing a beat, "at least I've been honest with everything I said—a concept I doubt you understand."

"Then since I'm all those things, why do you need me?" Lockhart almost shouted, and Ron grinned evilly.

"Bait," he said simply, and Lockhart blanched before Calypso kicked him and he fell with a scream into the dark hole—without him noticing, the three of them had herded him around, in front of and then to the edge of the entrance while he was ranting at Calypso.

He had only needed the slightly nudge to go over the edge, but Calypso found she enjoyed kicking him—it was a great stress-relief, which she needed greatly considering what she was about to do.

The three of them stilled and listened for the tell-tale thump of him hitting the bottom, it was only after he let out a pained groan that they decided to take the plunge themselves—a quick game of rock-paper-scissors made Calypso the lucky winner to go first.

"You know," Calypso mused, feeling vaguely sick as she hung her legs over the ledge. "I've always hated heights, it being dark makes it worse I think."

"I'm coming down with you," Ron declared as he sat behind her, legs caging her body in and arms wrapping around her waist. "We'll see you down there, Harry." And he scooted them forward and they slid with Calypso screaming—she was going to pee herself!

They came out the end of the tunnel, tumbling and landed in bones that splintered easily under their weight—thankfully they were animal bones, rats mostly. Calypso didn't know how she would cope if she had landed in a pile of human remains—not well, she suspected.

(Thankfully, she hadn't peed herself though she had come horribly close)

Calypso stood gingerly, wand back in her hand and pointing at Lockhart—she still didn't trust him—and Ron stood with a grimace as he brushed off splinters of bone of him though he gave up as he saw the muck he had picked up while sliding down the tunnel.

"Well, these clothes are ruined," Calypso said dryly, and Ron nodded with a grimace as Harry came sliding out of the tunnel and stumbled to his feet, more bones crunching under his feet.

"Cosy," Harry remarked as he looked around and Calypso and Ron snickered, needing the laughter to ease the fearful tension in them more than anything. "Alright, Professor's first."

Lockhart whimpered in destressed as their wands prodded him along in front of them.

"Keep your eyes ready to close," Harry whispered, and Calypso dearly wished she had remembered to pick up Dora's sunglasses if only for the courage they may inspire in her.

She had a feeling if she survived this then her family was going to kill her for this scare, and idly wondered as she walked who would reach her first—her mother or Akira?

* * *

 **AN: Happy New Year, I hope you like the cliff-hanger I've just given you. What do you think of what's happening? What do you think is going to happen down in the Chamber?**

 **Anyway, I asked which of the three backstories people preferred when it came to Femshep and one reviewer made me pause when they questioned if Calypso was going to be Femshep. I admit that thought hadn't crossed my mind, and yet when I read that question, my mind exploded into ideas.**

 **Originally, I had been planning of having Calypso's next-self grow up with Femshep, but now I'm torn. Do I make Calypso Femshep? Messing with her and forcing her to be the hero? Do I make her a relative of Femshep? Do I go with my original idea and just have her grow up with Femshep without an relation? Or do I mess with mind, trick her into thinking she's Femshep only for another Shepard to take the stage?**

 **I'll admit that I don't really like the last option, but I still have decided to give it to you.**

 **Please tell me your opinions, and once again, Happy New Year!**


	16. Chapter 16

Calypso regretted much as she took in the fabled Chamber of Secrets, she regretted that she was impulsive, she regretted that she let panic cloud her mind, she regretted not heeding McGonagall's echoing call and she really regretted that the only adult they had with them was Lockhart—why didn't she go to Flitwick? Why had she been so, so, well Gryffindor-like?!

"How far down do you reckon we are?" Ron asked as he prodded Lockhart in the back whenever he hesitated too long, bones crunching under their feet and the air damp.

"We have to be under the lake," Harry decided as Calypso peered around with her lit wand raised.

The Chamber or at least the tunnel towards the actual Chamber, she suspected, was made from roughly carved rock that was damp in places—was there a leak? Cracks between the ceiling and the lake? She hoped not, because it would be just her luck right now for the ceiling to come crashing down with tons of lake water and a giant squid to squash her.

The light from her and Harry's wands reflected oddly of the walls and every twisting shadows made her want to slam her eyes shut in fear of the basilisk.

"Close your eyes," Harry ordered sharply and immediately everyone shut their eyes and waited. "It's fine, just a shed skin."

Lockhart whimpered, and Calypso opened her eyes to see him flake down out as he slumped onto the ground, shaking her hand in disgust, Calypso strode forward to take in the rather massive snake skin.

"You should have brought a proper teacher," Calypso told Harry as she curiously poked at the rather thick skin—it wasn't the thin membrane that she had expected from a snake skin, it was rather thick and hard, it would take strong tools to harvest the skin.

"Why didn't you?" Harry asked in return, and Calypso grimaced.

"I have no idea," she admitted almost sheepishly.

"Come on—hey!" Ron yelped, and Calypso and Harry turned to see Lockhart wrestling Ron's wand from his hand before he stood, slightly shakily, before them with the wand pointed at them.

"With your friends, Weasley," Lockhart jabbed the wand towards Ron and Ron scowled as he moved to flank Calypso. "Thank you for helping me with my next book," Lockhart's blue eyes took in the shed skin with greedy look, "you even thoughtfully provided me with proof—no more silly girls can call me a fraud with a bit of this."

Calypso scowled, that was the second time Lockhart had called her a silly girl and she didn't like it.

"What about my sister?" Ron snapped, furious.

"Unfortunately, I didn't arrive in time to save her, the horrible sight of her mangled corpse drove you all mad," Lockhart almost sighed like it truly pained him. "But I will tell our story, you will be remembered for trying to be brave as you aided me."

"You think that my family will buy that tripe?" Calypso asked in disbelief before she bared her teeth in an unsettling snarl. "They'll not accept that, they'll hunt for the truth, and we've never been above a little thing like torture to get what we want."

For a second, Lockhart looked uncertain before he firmed his resolve and kept his stolen wand trained on them.

"Obliviate!" he shouted, and the wand backfired with force which sent Lockhart flying back into the wall with great force.

The tunnel trembled, and the ceiling came crashing down making the three twelve-years scramble out of the way—two going one way and one going the other.

Harry hit the ground hard and raised his arms to shield his head as rumble rained down and his ears rung.

It was only when the dust finally settled that Harry realised the ringing in his ears was the sound of Calypso's muffled scream.

"Calypso," he called out as he scrambled to his feet, he didn't have to go far to find her.

She was still screaming, muffled though it was by her biting through her bottom lip, and her wand had been discarded next to her with little care as her hands scrambled at the rock that was pinning her right leg in place as tears rolled down her face.

"Calypso," he rushed towards her, hands reaching out to push the rock only to make Calypso scream louder, blood sliding down her chin, before he remembered first-year and Halloween. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The rock rose, and Calypso dragged her leg from under it with a high-pitched sound of pain before he finally let gently down away from them. Calypso folded over her leg, sobbing, as she just refrained from touching her bloody leg with trembling hands.

"Calypso," Harry was at a loss at what to say as he knelt beside her.

"—arry, Harry!" came the muffled shouting of Ron through a wall of rumble, allowing Harry to guiltily leave Calypso's side. "Harry! Are you two alright?"

"More or less," Harry shouted back with a grimace. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," there was a pause then a sound of pain, "even Lockhart's alright—jammy bugger."

"Please tell me he just kicked the idiot," Calypso sniffed, trembling and looking horribly young—why hadn't Harry sent her away? Sent her to get a teacher? She wasn't like Ron! She had never done anything like this before! And now she was hurt, hurt because she got caught up with this when she didn't need to! Hurt because they thought it was a bright idea to bring Lockhart along!

"I think so," Harry told her, and Calypso nodded, tears still sliding down her face.

"Good," there was something almost savage in the way she said that, that Harry understood as he almost felt the same way when it came to Lockhart. "You're going to go on and save Ginny, aren't you?" there was no doubt in her trembling voice, chockfull of pain.

"We still have time," Harry said, and Calypso nodded.

"Go, I'll wait here," she hissed as she moved. "You better come back alive, or so help me, I'll bring you back to kill you myself."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry answered in some amusement. "Ron, I'm going to go on, Calypso can't though."

There was a pause before Ron shouted back; "I best get moving these rocks then, good luck."

Harry hesitated for a moment before firming his resolve and left with only one backward glance at Calypso—who it seemed had gathered herself enough to tend to her leg.

* * *

Calypso had to sacrifice her t-shirt to make into bandages—one of Dora's old band t-shirts at that, hopefully Dora wouldn't be too mad—and was thankful she had taken her dagger with her despite her moment of insanity—that was her story and she was sticking to it, she was a Black, so people wouldn't really question it—and ruined her jeans further by cutting open the right leg instead of attempting to roll the leg up.

Her wand trembled in her hand as she conjured water to wash off the blood and muck from her injured and bared leg, muffling her pained groan with the fist of her left hand as she did as the cool water hit her open wounds and slowly numbed the area.

"Calypso?" Ron called, the sound of moving rocks stopping for a moment. "Are you alright?"

You could tell Ron was an older sibling, Calypso thought, as he spoke with the same protective concern that Dora did whenever Calypso hurt herself.

"I'm fine," she gritted out and Ron paused for a moment before replying;

"Okay," and several more rocks were moved before he spoke again, "he'll come back, you know, Harry. He always comes back from these things, doing the impossible more often than not as he does."

"You do this often then?" Calypso asked before she gritted her teeth and began to bandage her leg.

"Well, we did something like this in our first year, so I suppose so," Calypso could imagine Ron shrugging at that. "We always make it out relatively okay."

"Relatively?" Calypso questioned, and Ron sounded almost sheepish as he replied;

"Well, I ended up being knocked out by a giant chess-piece and Harry had to spend several days in the Hospital Wing, but we were fine in the end,"

What had she gotten herself into? Calypso thought to herself as she knotted the make-shift bandages before leaning back against what could only be the giant snake skin.

She hated snakes, hated them more than she did spiders, and yet here she was, leaning against the shed skin of a massive one and who knew how many feet away from the massive basilisk that shed it!

How was this her life again? Did she hit her head recently and didn't remember? Had Lockhart's stupidity doomed her? Or had Harry's do-good, reckless and hero-like behaviour affect her more than she thought?

Or had she succumbed to the Black Wrath? Wrath stirred by Hermione being attacked and Luna being so afraid? No, she thought with a grimace, at least she hadn't completely, or she wouldn't have been able to think relatively straight nor would she had felt such fear.

Perhaps she should speak to Akira about the Black Wrath when she got out of here—and it was when, not if, because they were getting out of here alive, somehow—so she wasn't blind-sighted when she really fell into the Wrath.

"Lovely," Calypso replied dryly after a moment.

She wondered if she would get involved with something like this again, knowing Harry and both their lucks, she would. Healing spells, she was investing in healing spells—something she should probably begin to learn anyway with her wish to become a Healer.

It was funny really, that Calypso wanted to be a Healer because she didn't like people, she didn't have an innate kindness or need to help people in her, and yet she had decided to become a Healer.

Part of her thinks that she chose the path of a Healer for her Dad, her Dad the muggle-born, her Dad that would be threatened when the Dark Monster came back, her Dad that could die and Calypso didn't know how she could save him, he wasn't like Dora, Dora would be in her reach if she remembered right, if she was lucky and in time, she could save her sister, but she wasn't sure if she could save her dad.

And that was a heavy weight on her shoulders, that was why she had chosen to be a Healer and make him proud, she would always remember the beaming smile of pride he gave her when she first said she would a Healer. For her Dad, Calypso would be the best Healer she can be.

* * *

Calypso didn't know how long she sat there, listening to Ron shifting stones and cursing at them or Lockhart or himself even before she heard stumbling steps and barely supressed tears.

Harry appeared, covered in muck and blood, a ruby encrusted sword in one hand, the Sorting Hat tucked under his belt and Ginny's diary in the other hand with Ginny beside him, rubbing her eyes and sniffing heavily.

A swan-sized bird, feathers brilliant shades of gold and red, that could only be a phoenix lazily glided behind them and thrilled a little at Calypso.

"Ron," Calypso called out, "He's back, and he's got Ginny."

Ron gave a muffled cheer before the final piece of rumbled moved and his hands reached out through the small hole he had created—large enough for them to get through—and Ginny gave a sob as she threw herself forward and into her brother's hands, letting him almost pull her through the hole.

"You look horrible," Calypso informed Harry when he came to a stop in front of her.

"You don't like that good either," Harry almost smirked as he carefully placed the sword between his belt and trousers and tucked the diary—with a massive hole in the middle of it—into his pocket before he reached down and helped her to her feet.

"Frig," Calypso hissed, biting back a shrill groan, as Harry had to take most of her weight as her right leg crumbled under her. "Bugger, damn it, okay, let's try again."

"You sure?" Harry asked in concern, adjusting his grip of Calypso so he was still taking most of her weight.

"Yeah," Calypso breathed out deeply as she regained her footing gingerly. "What's with the phoenix?"

"He's Dumbledore's," Harry told her as the phoenix swooped through the hole and Ron made a startled sound at the sight of it.

Carefully, Harry and Calypso stumbled towards and through the hole—having to duck and twist awkwardly to get through together—and was met with the sight of Ginny sobbing into her brother's chest as Ron stared in bemusement at the phoenix and Lockhart sat dazed on the floor.

"What's with the idiot?" Calypso asked roughly, glaring at the blonde menace.

"Spell backfired," Ron said with some grim amusement and satisfaction. "Lost all his memory."

"Hello," Lockhart greeted duly, "awful place this, do you live here? Do I?"

Calypso had a mad desire to cackle in glee, but held it in—even she knew now wasn't the time.

"No," Harry answered shortly before turning his attention to the others, "we need to get out of here."

"How?" Ron asked, "It's not like we can fly ourselves up there."

Ron's question made Harry consider the phoenix thoughtfully.

"Fawkes isn't an ordinary bird," Harry told them before gesturing towards the preening bird. "Grab on."

* * *

"Oh," Myrtle said blankly as Fawkes gently let them down on the toilet floor before he decided to burden Harry's shoulder with his weight—somehow being able to balance delicately on said shoulder. "You're alive."

"You don't have to sound so disappointed," Harry grumbled as he adjusted to Fawkes' weight and resumed his place as human-crutch for Calypso.

"I just thought," Myrtle blushed a deep silver, "that if you died, you could share my toilets if you wanted."

Ron sniggered, and Calypso hid a grin by bowing her head while Harry fumbled with his words;

"That's, um, awfully nice of you, Myrtle," Harry said as he shot a look towards Ron, "thanks for the offer."

"It's always open for you, Harry," Myrtle told him earnestly, and Calypso bit her already torn and abused lip to stop her laughing at the look on Harry's face—Ron coughed to hide his own laugh.

Quickly, Harry shuffled them from the toilets before Myrtle could say anything else and seemed to slump in mild relief when the door shut behind them.

"Where to, Harry?" Ron asked with one arm around Ginny, who hadn't even cracked a smile at Myrtle's little crush.

At Ron's question, Fawkes launched himself from Harry's shoulder and flew slowly down the hall, slow enough for them to follow him easily.

"I guess we follow him?" Calypso asked, and Harry nodded in agreement before their odd group began to follow a phoenix through the halls.

They ended up at McGonagall's office door and Harry raised his fist to knock—strangely polite despite the state of them—before opening the door.

"GINNY!" was shrieked before Mrs Weasley rushed her two youngest children and swept them up in a hug. "Ron, oh, Ginny,"

"Calypso!" the relieved voice of her dad followed, but it was her Mum that tugged her gently from Harry's hold and towards a seat where she was quickly settled, and Dad knelt to heal her leg and Dora clasped her shoulder in relief—her hair slowly darkening to a purple from the stark white of fear she had previously been wearing.

A familiar hand tangled in her messy hair and Calypso looked up to see the blank face of Akira staring down at her, dark eyes warm in relief.

"So-chan," he greeted before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. "We will be having a talk later."

Calypso nodded, the reunion was going better than she suspected—more relief and mild tears compared to the shouting she had half-expected.

"You saved her! You saved my daughter," Mrs Weasley turned towards Harry and swept him in his own hug, allowing Mr Weasley to pull his youngest children towards him. "But how?"

"I think that's what we all want to know," Dumbledore's calm—and strangely missed—voice spoke up and Calypso glanced up to see him sat in his own chair with McGonagall clutching at her chest with a pale face standing beside him.

Harry straightened under the curious gazes of the adults and strode to McGonagall's desk where he carefully placed the sword, Sorting Hat and finally ruined diary.

And he began to tell the tale from the beginning, starting with the strange voice during his first detention, glossing over things until Halloween, telling them of following the voice and finding Mrs Norris and then onward—though he kept the Polyjuice potion and their trip down to Slytherin to himself—until they reached today and figuring out that it was Myrtle that must have died fifty-odd years ago, that she could possibly know where the entrance was, and how Harry and Ron went to Lockhart for help in saving Ginny only to find the blonde packing his trunks to flee—something that made Mrs Weasley scowl at the slouching figure of Lockhart against the doorframe—and how they threatened him into helping them, going to Myrtle's toilets and finding Calypso already there.

Akira's and Dora's hands tightened on their grips on her, Mum's lips pursed, and Dad even paused in carefully sealing the wounds of her leg as Harry explained that Calypso had figured out it had to be Myrtle's toilets where the entrance was and how she had been looking for some sort of sign to where it was before Harry continued with the story of Myrtle's death and where the entrance was.

He then went on to explain the trip down the Chamber, Calypso kicking Lockhart down first before they followed after Lockhart proved it was safe, of the animal bones crunching under foot and finding the snake-skin, of Lockhart pretending to faint before wrestling Ron's broken wand from him and turning it on them, of his attempt to memory-charm them that backfired and caused the ceiling to cave in, of Calypso being pinned by a piece of rumble and Ron separated from them by a wall of rumble, of Harry getting the rock of Calypso's leg before he continued on by himself.

He spoke of entering the actually Chamber himself, finding Ginny laying almost lifeless on the floor, being confronted by a shade of someone called Tom Riddle who proclaimed to be the heir of Slytherin, of Riddle calling the basilisk after Fawkes and the Sorting Hat arrived in a flash of fire, of Fawkes blinding the basilisk and the Sorting Hat giving Harry a sword, of him stabbing the basilisk through the mouth before finally stabbing the diary that connected Riddle to the living world.

Calypso's mouth dropped open and she turned to stare at Ginny, who was staring at the floor in shame and tears, and remembered her desire to hide that innocent looking diary far away from the red-head and finally understanding why.

"I don't understand," Dora spoke up with a frown. "How did he get out of the diary?"

Harry hesitated, and Ginny sniffed as she looked up guiltily;

"It was my fault," she told them weakly, "it was my diary, he was using me."

"Ginny," Mr Weasley admonished sharply, "haven't I told you never trust anything that you don't know where its brain is kept?"

Ginny nodded miserably before burying her face into her mother's side.

"Don't be so hard on her, Arthur," Dumbledore spoke up from where he was bent over and inspecting the diary. "Older and more experienced witches and wizards have fallen prey to Voldemort before."

"You-Know-Who?" Mr Weasley asked, confused and slowly fearful. "What's he got to do with it?"

"Once, before he was Voldemort, he was just another student by the name of Tom Riddle," Dumbledore explained and the Weasley's blanched as they clutched their daughter.

Calypso glanced at her own family; Dora was scowling despite her face paling a shade, Akira had gone almost scarily blank in a way that stupidly comforted her as he looked like he was preparing to go on a massacre for her, Mum's eyes had narrowed on the diary in Dumbledore's hand and Dad was rubbing his eyes in disbelief.

"Miss Weasley," Dumbledore addressed her gently, "come next month, I'm sure you'll be relieved to know, the mandrakes will have finally matured enough to cure our petrified students—no lasting harm has been done to any of them."

"Hermione will be okay, then?" Ron asked hopefully, and Dumbledore nodded with a small smile.

"Yes indeed," Dumbledore's smile was quite fond as he added, "no doubt, she'll be put-out by all the work she has missed."

Ron and Harry shared fond grins, knowing that would be one of Hermione's top concerns once she woke up.

"Perhaps we should get the children off to the Hospital Wing?" Dumbledore suggested and McGonagall firmly nodded, seemingly having pulled herself together during Harry's tale, and began to herd them from the room though Harry and Ron were called back, Ron joining them after a moment without Harry, and Lockhart didn't move from his slumped place against the doorframe despite the dirty looks that promised hell from both Mrs Weasley and Mum as they passed him—both women clutching their young daughters to them as they walked.

* * *

 **AN: Hope you like this chapter despite the lack of action in it.**

 **A few of said they would like to see Calypso as Femshep, some have said they want to see Calypso as her sister—either older or twin as her being the younger sister would be too much like this fic—and a couple have said they would like to see Calypso grow up with Femshep.**

 **I'm still unsure of which to choose out of these three options and I will continue to look forward to your opinions.**


	17. Chapter 17

Calypso resigned herself to the tender mercies of both Madame Pomfrey and her Dad without an argument, and simply sat herself on one of the free beds.

Mum was strangely silent as she sat beside Calypso, it was a thoughtful silence that Calypso didn't know what to make of and a silence no-one seemed to be in a hurry to break.

"Akira?" Calypso asked, licking her tingling lips after Madame Pomfrey healed and sealed the torn flesh.

"Yes, So-chan?" Akira answered from where he stood before her bed, arms folded tightly and scarred face still rather blank.

"Do you know anyone that could harvest a basilisk?" Calypso's question made everyone pause and look at her in some shock and disbelief.

"You want to harvest it?" Ron blurted from his place beside his family, they were crowded around the bed Ginny had been placed and Madame Pomfrey had just bustled over—leaving Calypso in the capable hands of her father.

"Do you know how much a basilisk corpse is worth?" Calypso asked in return, raising her eyebrows—it was something she had thought about as she was stuck next to the shed-skin. "A lot, and I don't think there has ever been a basilisk as large that one seemed to be. Technically, it belongs to Harry because he killed it, but I was thinking that maybe the profit could be split amongst the victims—though I wouldn't say no to some armour made of that skin."

"You and Ron will get some too," Harry said firmly as he strode in with an elf on his heels, staring up at Harry in adoration that was clearly making Harry feel more than a bit uncomfortable.

"Harry," Mrs Weasley objected, but Harry shook his head.

"Calypso said it belongs to me, right? I think she has the right idea, split it between the victims and then between Ron and Calypso," he said firmly making the elf stare at him in more awe.

"You're taking a share too, right?" Calypso asked him, and Harry opened his mouth to refuse when she gave a pointed look towards the mixed expression on Ron's face before he grudgingly nodded in acceptance—the Weasleys were too proud for charity after all. "Good, I would also like to put in an order for a basilisk fang dagger."

"Calypso!" Mum said sharply, dark eyes narrowing on her youngest. "Have you forgotten how highly venomous a basilisk fang is?"

"No," Calypso told her, "but I think it's always useful to have a dagger that can destroy even the worse magic."

A strange look crossed Mum's face at that and she grudgingly nodded;

"We'll take several of the teeth to make into daggers, Mr Potter," Mum told him firmly, "we'll pay for them of course."

"They'll be part of Calypso's share," Harry held his head stubbornly and Mum considered him before nodding shortly.

"Very well," she told him as she grabbed of one of Calypso's hands in her own. "Thank you, Mr Potter, thank you for helping Calypso."

"She wouldn't have been in that situation if it wasn't for me," Harry said guiltily, and Dora scoffed loudly.

"She wouldn't have been in that situation if she hadn't been so stupid," Dora retorted as she glared at her little sister. "Prepare for a world of hurt this summer, next time you won't be a sitting duck."

"Nymphadora!" Mum snapped making Dora's hair flare red briefly at the mention of her full name—she hated her name. "You will not encourage her!"

Calypso deliberately turned to the unnamed elf, ignoring the hissed argument that was erupting between her mother and sister.

"And who are you?" she asked almost politely, her gaze fixed on the elf that positively jumped at her address and shuffled forward after gaining a reassuring look from Harry.

"I am Dobby, Miss, Dobby the House-elf," he introduced himself and Calypso seemed to shock everyone when she stuck out her hand towards him and Dobby's eyes watered as he stepped forward to take her hand, a trembling smile on his face as he could barely believe what was happening.

"I'm Calypso Tonks," she introduced herself as she shook his hand, ignoring everyone's shock and Harry's look of pride and happiness. "Are you Harry's friend too?"

"Yes, Miss," Dobby nodded his head fiercely. "Harry Potter helped free Dobby, he is a Great Wizard."

"I know," Calypso said simply, sparing a small glance to see Harry duck his head in embarrassment. "Unfortunately, he's terrible at looking after himself."

Dobby gasped, dismayed, and Harry jerked in disbelief as he gaped at Calypso—Ron sniggered in agreement.

"Yes, I know, it's horrible," Calypso shook her head in her own milder dismay. "I think he needs someone to look after him, especially when he's outside of Hogwarts."

Calypso didn't like how thin Harry was, and she remembered how he spoke about his muggle family—she wasn't ignorant to what it could mean.

"Calypso!" Harry objected, stepping forward as he realised where she was going.

"That's why I would like to hire you, Dobby, to take care of him," Calypso continued, ignoring Harry easily. "How much pay and days-off do you want?"

Dobby burst into tears, and Dad chuckled, a smile of pride directed towards his youngest daughter.

"Good girl," he muttered as he patted her knee, almost unheard as Calypso and Dobby began hashing out the details of his employment with Dobby tearing up every now and again—both ignoring Harry, who had stridden over, and was attempting to interrupt them with an increasingly frustrated and disbelieving look on his face.

Harry turned to Ron with a pleading look on his face, and Ron just laughed at him;

"Just go with it, mate," Ron advised sagely, and Harry gave up with a loud sigh.

Madame Pomfrey turned with a frown on her face as she eyed Harry unhappily.

"That's it," she declared with a certain tone of voice, "all of you, and I mean all four of you, will shower, change and put yourself into bed."

"But there's nothing wrong with me," Ron objected and Madame Pomfrey turned to him with a small glare that made him pale a shade before he reached out and yanked Harry's arm. "Where the bathroom, Harry?"

Calypso gave a half-hearted groan as she levered herself up and limbed heavily towards the 'girls' bathroom' that the Hospital Wing boasted. She had barely taken a handful of steps before Dora wrapped her arm around Calypso's waist and helped her the rest of the way with Ginny following slowly, still subdued and sniffling.

* * *

Calypso jerked herself awake, arms folding over her head to protect it from the stones she had dreamt were crashing down on her when she was powerless to move, and she slowly calmed herself before she lowered her arms.

"So-chan," Akira's greeted her after a moment and she rolled onto her side—ignoring the tingling pain of the Skele-Gro working on knitting her cracked bones together—and stared at him, he was sat beside her bed and she could just make out his features in the dim light. "What were you thinking?"

She knew he meant earlier and not whatever she was dreaming about.

"I wasn't really," she admitted after a moment, recalling the mess of emotions she had felt; anger, fear, odd excitement, curiosity. She hadn't really stopped to think, and that was unlike her. "I acted like a Gryffindor," she realised with a dull sense of horror.

Akira snorted, unhappy but still amused by her horror; "Of course, that's what horrifies you the most out of this."

"I didn't want to be a Gryffindor for a reason," she said in mild disgust before shaking her head. "I was so stupid."

"That," Akira began dryly, "is something we can both agree with. Why did you go to Myrtle's toilets?"

"I figured out what Hermione meant, I remembered where Mrs Norris was attack, and I was certain I could find some sort of sign where the Chamber was—it was like a puzzle," she told him simply. "But then I saw the message, someone had been taken and I had to hurry—what if they died because I did nothing?"

That was a question that haunted her since she remembered, it haunted when she realised that if she did nothing, if she didn't at least try, then her sister would die, and it would be her fault, her fault for not trying, her fault for not doing something, anything, to help her, to stop her death.

It was a question that hovered in the back of her mind since the whole Chamber business started and she had realised just how much she had shot herself in the foot by not actively remembering everything. People could have died, and it would have been her fault for not doing anything, for not remembering, for being stupid enough not to make sure she remembered the key things instead of just focusing on Dora—Dora, older and pale, pink hair faded and face lax in her final rest—and learning all she could about things.

Calypso was selfish, she had always known she was selfish, but she didn't realise just selfishly blind she could be until now.

She had blinded herself to the needs and suffering of others—something so easy to do because she didn't care—and focused solely on her family and she had not cared, not cared one bit until Hogwarts and the Chamber, and Luna's quiet confession in the night— _'I'm afraid'_ —and then she cared because it wasn't just about her family anymore, it was about her friends, and she couldn't close her eyes, turn her face away, from her friends and the very real danger they were in.

What was worse, what was really worse, was that her friends, her family, were good people, people who cared about other people, they were good and cared in a way that Calypso just couldn't—and did that make her broken? Did that make her a bad person? —and she didn't want to disappoint them, didn't want to see them hurt or in pain, she wanted to make them proud of her, she wanted to protect them.

But how she could protect them when they were all so willingly ready to throw themselves into the fire to save others? When they so easily donned the title of hero? When they could be so stupidly reckless in their bravery—something she wasn't, she wasn't brave—and in their desire to help people? To protect people from evils of the world?

Akira's hand rested heavily on her head and startled her from her spiralling thoughts.

"It wouldn't have been your fault," he told her simply and she wanted to argue but he wouldn't let. "Don't burden yourself so much, So-chan, you can't protect everyone."

"I don't want to protect everyone," she confessed almost shamefully. "I just want to protect my friends, my family." _I don't care about anyone else,_ she thought, but didn't say as she didn't want them to know just how selfish she was.

Akira watched her, dark eyes—Black eyes, eyes she shared with him—filled with understanding as if he heard what she thought and understood. If anyone would understand, Calypso thought, it would be Akira who had never hid how much he didn't care for others outside the family—and even outside his favourite family members, Junior and herself.

"Tell me, So-chan," Akira curled a loose strand of hair around his fingers. "Has anyone taught you about the Wrath?"

"Not really," she admitted, and Akira nodded thoughtfully.

"It is said our forefather was Ares himself," he began, and she nodded slightly, she remembered from Aunt Cassi's lessons—many pureblood families claimed they were descended from Gods, it was another reason for purebloods to look down upon muggle-borns. "It is why our blood runs hot, why we have the Wrath, why we always come alive in battle and bloodshed. We were born for war, for conflict, and it's something no Black can deny.

We have been soldiers, assassins and mercenaries. We have claimed the blood of Gods and bathed in the blood of monsters, we have killed and slaughtered our way through Europe before we settled here, we have wielded the darkest of magic and been courted by numerous Dark Lords and Ladies over the centuries."

And that was the family she was the heir of, the family she was expected to lead. Centuries of bloodshed, of massacres and murderers, of the darkest magic known to man, and it was hers to inherit by some quirk of fate, by chance—wasn't she so lucky?

"I already know this," she told her cousin and he just tapped her nose in mild reprimand making her wrinkle it underneath his finger.

"The Wrath is both a gift and a curse, one that no other family has," Akira continued softly, "though the Vikings of old had something like it with their Bersekers. The Black's Wrath dampens our fear, takes away our morals, and pushes the limits on our minds, bodies, and magic—it is what helps us dominate a battlefield as we are powered by our rage. If you continue to run into danger, if you are truly determined in your desire to protect both friends and family, then you will need to learn to harness the Wrath."

"Bellatrix Lestrange fell to her Wrath," she pointed out after a moment of chewing on her, and Akira scoffed.

"Bellatrix fell long before she succumbed to Wrath," he countered, "I'll teach you."

"Okay," she agreed, who better to teach her then Akira who was always in some state of Wrath?

Truly her cousin had been born in the wrong time, he would have done well back they were openly soldiers, assassins and mercenaries. For a brief time in the War, Akira had been free to unleash himself only for him to be attacked, scarred, and bowing to pressure from both family and Ministry leave the battlefield before he could conquer it like the Blacks of Old.

Calypso was of the opinion the War would have ended a lot sooner if they had simply let Akira do as he willed—there would certainly be no free 'reformed' Death Eaters around.

* * *

' _Dear Aunt Lucretia,_

 _I don't know if you are yet aware of what's happened—been happening—at Hogwarts, but no doubt Mum will tell the rest of the family before I return for the summer. No doubt, you'll have words of your own to give me._

 _I have written to you for two things; one a research project, I have recently come across the true name of the Dark Monster (You-Know-Who, He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, and whatever else they are calling him). I was wondering if you would like to research who he was before he took on his title—it would make an interesting book at least, and at most weaken whatever support-base he still has. His name was once Tom Marvolo Riddle, I don't know if that means anything to you or what you can drag up on him._

 _My second reason is a simple question; would you like to be the first Historian in Salazar Slytherins' famed Chamber of Secrets? We've found it by the way._

 _Hope you are well,_

 _Calypso'_

* * *

Harry looked around the dozens of people crowding into Moaning Myrtle's toilets—said ghost had disappeared into one of the toilets when she noticed just how many people were following Harry in—before shooting a look towards where Calypso stood primly next to him, looking like she hadn't had her leg crushed only a week ago.

She smiled at him, all innocent, and Harry scowled at her—innocence didn't suit her at all, in Harry's opinion, especially not now as this was all her idea and fault.

He may have agreed with it, but he didn't know it meant this many people, all looking eagerly at him.

It was for a good cause, he reminded himself firmly, you are helping people with this, these people don't care about the Boy-Who-Lived and only care about the thousand-years-old basilisk that they are going harvest and the fabled Chamber of Secrets, and they were professionals in their duties—they were also either related in some way to Calypso or were employed by the Black family which made it easier somehow.

They were Magizoologists, Historians and professional Harvesters, here for the things in the Chamber only.

"Does everyone have their brooms?" Professor Dumbledore asked as he stood next to them and the dozens of people nodded, Newt Scamander almost bouncing on his toes as he did—Calypso had personally written to the famous Magizoologist, and he had turned up two days ago with several harried students in tow. "Good, good, if you would Mr Potter?"

Harry nodded shortly before turning to the sink and remembering Calypso's advise envisioned the carving to be an actual snake before he hissed;

" _Open_ ,"

There was gasps and whispers behind him as the entrance opened before them, Harry ignored them as he mounted his own broom and flew down the tunnel, knowing they would be quick to follow.

It was much easier to fly down instead of sliding and took away some of the fear and uncertainty he felt last time, he always felt free and in control when flying.

Calypso came down on the back of her sister's broom, Dora—or Tonks as she insisted to be called, which was strange as he had spent a while of thinking of Calypso as Tonks and it was hard to now pin that name onto her older sister—came skidding to a stop with Calypso clinging on to her waist.

"Slytherin sure knew how to decorate," Tonks commented with a wrinkle of her nose as Calypso slowly unwrapped her arms.

"Our changes haven't helped much," Calypso added with a slightly smirk as she stood and stretched as the other people joined them on their own brooms, Professor Dumbledore and Newt Scamander at the lead.

"I hope there is more to this," Lucretia Prewett—related to both Calypso and Ron in different ways, and who had turned up yesterday with a collection of Historians following in her wake—spoke up as she glanced around curiously. "Even I can't turn this into a good book."

"Of course, there is," Calypso said, glancing at Harry with a questioning look which he replied with a nod—how much more, Harry didn't know as he had been a bit too busy trying to stay alive to get a good look around.

"Good," Lucretia said firmly, "What are we waiting for?"

Newt Scamander hadn't waited for them, he had already ducked through the hole Ron had cleared with his students hurrying after him with almost panicked yet resigned looks on their faces—it seemed Mister Scamander had a habit of hurrying ahead with his students following behind him into the thick of things.

Lucretia scowled and was quick on his heels, several other Historians following her with notebooks ready and eyes wide with burning curiosity.

"It's is nice that somethings don't change," Dumbledore chuckled as the Harvesters went through the hole next. "Mr Scamander is still so eager, and Mrs Prewett still doesn't like people beating her to the punch." He finished with a fond chuckle as he followed.

"Come on, you two," Tonks called as she followed her previous Headmaster towards the Chamber itself.

"After you," Harry gestured, and Calypso took a deep breathe before ducking through the hole with Harry close behind her—thankfully no more of the ceiling attempted to bury them.

"I hate snakes," she informed Harry as she walked beside the shed-skin that a few Harvesters were inspecting if it was fit to be, well, harvested.

"Funny, I'm not fond of them myself anymore," Harry told her, and she laughed at his dry tone.

* * *

 **AN: And here is another chapter, I hope you like it.**

 **People seem torn between making Calypso Shepard and having Calypso as Shepard's twin sister, please think on it and give me your opinions!**

 **Earthborn, Spacer, or Colonist is still the question—or should I mix and match those backgrounds and make different background containing elements of either all three or just two?**


	18. Chapter 18

Over the next week, the Harvesters had taken all the rendered down basilisk out of the Chamber of Secrets and it was now being stored in one of the Black warehouses. From there, the parts would be sorted—between what was being sold, what was being kept and repurposed—before being sold across the globe by Alexander Black—Hanako Black was already fielding interest in Japan.

Lucretia Prewett split her time between the Chamber of Secrets and Hogwarts' library, whenever Calypso caught sight of her, Aunt Lucretia was giddy— 'you always give me such interesting things to research, Darling'—and barely seemed to slow down for a moment. The rest of the Historians had holed themselves up in the Chamber and were constantly asking Harry to come down and speak Parseltongue at various walls and such.

(They had found a secret library that way, filled with books long lost and in great need of repair. Lysander Crouch was written to and turned up the same day, she set up shop in one of the abandoned classrooms, and was busying herself restoring the books before she would translate them and transcribe them into new books)

Harry, increasingly annoyed, would fly down the opened entrance several times a day for two days before Professor McGonagall finally put her foot down and told them in no-uncertain-terms that 'Mr Potter' would only help them on the weekends, and if they had a problem with that, they could take it up with her. (Un)Surprisingly, none took up her offer.

Meals were interrupted by Newt Scamander dashing in with all sorts of snakes curled around his shoulders or arm and he would delight in Harry translating what they were saying— 'excellent' he would beam as one of his students took notes—before he would dash back to the camp he had set up on Hogwarts' lawn. Ironically, it was this everyday dose of Parseltongue and Harry's slightly bored face, that made the rest of the students accepting of his 'dark' gift and now no one even shuddered when he started hissing at the snake of the day.

Moaning Myrtle was seen preening as she drifted through the halls beside one of the Historians—sometimes Lucretia Prewett—as they asked her about her final moments and quizzed her on every detail. It was almost sad to think that this could be the most positive attention she had received since her death—or even before her death.

Hagrid had been released the same night that the Heir of Slytherin had been defeated and the Ministry had finally allowed him to replace his wand since it was proven he wasn't the culprit—Tom Riddle's award for special services had been taken down and replaced with three others for Harry, Ron and Calypso herself for their services for the school—and both Professors Flitwick and McGonagall offered to tutor him over the summer.

Akira had somehow ended up as Defence Professor for the rest of the year since Lockhart had been packed off to St Mungos—the cheers that followed that announcement reached a whole new level as even the most brain-dead fangirls had gotten tired of him.

Ginny Weasley's involvement in the whole Chamber business was kept from public knowledge, but she kept her head down anyway—not that Calypso blamed her, the guilt must be eating at her and the sympathy some showed for her horrible kidnapping only made it worse.

As April turned into May, Lord Arcturus Black wrote to Calypso to inform her of the death of Walburga Black and to inform her that he was going to give her Grimmauld Place for some reason Calypso didn't know or care to know. Calypso, in turn, wrote to Aunt Cassi in hopes that she would go through Grimmauld Place and deal with whatever dark things Walburga Black had seen fit to collect without anyone knowing.

And then before they knew it, the victims were waking up thanks to the Mandrakes Professor Sprout had tended to.

* * *

"You figured it out," Hermione beamed at them, bushy hair as wild as ever as she threw her arms around both Harry and Calypso's necks without hesitation.

"And you are choking us," Calypso wheezed out and Hermione drew back with a mumbled apology before beaming at them again, so reassuringly alive in a way she hadn't been for too long.

"You did it," she told them brightly, breathless with joy and relief. "Oh, I can't believe you did it."

"I helped too," Ron grumbled, and Hermione patted at his arm without looking.

"I know you did," Hermione said almost absently, and Ron scowled.

"Then why don't I get a hug?" he burst out before flushing darkly and Hermione stared at him in shock, a just visible blush on her cheeks. "Forget I—uff!"

Hermione nearly flew into Ron's arms and hugging him tightly, and Ron pulled her close, face lost in her dark hair though the tips of his ears were visible and red in embarrassment.

Calypso raised her eyebrows at Harry and he nodded down the hall, quietly and without their notice, Calypso and Harry snuck away.

"So, how is being Mister Scamander's new research aid going for you?" she asked as they walked down the halls, leaving Hermione and Ron to sort out their new 'thing'.

"Annoying," Harry told her flatly. "Most of them just want to eat and lay about in the sun—and that's all they talk about when Mister Scamander asked."

"Really?" she asked in mild disbelief, she would have thought they had something more to say or at least something remotely interesting—if Harry could translate Desdemona, no doubt the demon would rant of just how terrible Calypso was and how much she took joy in upsetting her owner. "That's all?"

"Sometimes they threaten to bite him if he doesn't give them a nice juicy mouse," he informed her, and Calypso laughed.

"I bet that delighted Mister Scamander," she said, laughter still in her tone, and Harry nodded in bafflement.

"I've never seen someone look so happy about being threaten," he said while shaking his head in disbelief.

"Mister Scamander is a bit mad when it comes to creatures," she told him in some amusement, and Harry shot her a look that told her he had already guessed that. "He used to travel with an enchanted suitcase that he kept his creatures in—each had their own space that tailored to them, it was an amazing bit of spellwork that led to the creation of modern wizarding tents."

"What the difference between wizarding tents and muggle ones?" he asked in mild interest, and Calypso smiled at him before she launched into an explanation—it wasn't rapid-fire barrel of information like Hermione did when she explained things to him, and Harry found he actually enjoyed it as she added stories to the facts which livened up the explanation and made it almost amusing.

"Did you finish the book I sent you?" Calypso asked after a moment of silence, and Harry nodded.

"I don't really see myself as a Healer," Harry told her, "but Curse-Breaking seems interesting."

"You'll need both Runes and Arithmancy," she informed, "my Aunt Cassi was one."

"Runes and Arithmancy?" he questioned with a frown, and she nodded.

"You haven't chosen your electives, have you?" she questioned him, and he shook his head. "Well, Runes and Arithmancy are solid choices, but I'm not going to do Arithmancy—I'm not that great at maths—and instead I'm joining Luna in Care of Magical Creatures—several careers benefit from having more than a passing knowledge in Magical Creatures and Luna asked me."

"You seem to have it all figured out," he mused thoughtfully and a bit intimated as he still didn't know what he wanted to do with his life apart from survive his schooling, and she nodded after a moment.

"I suppose," she mused to herself more than him, "it's because I've already decided what I'm going to do."

"And what's that?" Harry asked curiously, wondering that career Calypso had chosen for herself.

"I'm going to be a Healer," she told him matter-of-factly, and Harry couldn't stop the snigger escaping him. "What's so funny?"

"You? A Healer? You took too much joy in kicking Lockhart to be a Healer," he informed, and she scowled as she bumped him with her shoulder and he bumped her back with a snigger, "see? So violent."

"I'll show you violent," she informed him, and Harry didn't need to be told twice, he darted down the halls with a laugh as he heard Calypso pounding behind him. "Slow down! Take your punishment!"

"Harry! Calypso! Don't run in the halls!" Hermione's shout echoed behind them.

* * *

Her first ever magical exams weren't as bad as she suspected they would be—tests had never been her forte and still weren't—and Calypso found herself hopeful that she would receive good marks over all her subjects.

Akira had been able to cram a lot of DADA knowledge in them in the few weeks they had before the exams, and had quickly become a favourite amongst the students—not that that was hard considering he was up against the likes of Lockhart.

Those that had been petrified was going to be tested over the summer, to confirm they had enough understanding to go on to the next year, and Penelope Clearwater had her OWLs rescheduled for the summer as well. None of them should suffer academically for what happened to them, and sometime over the summer they would be compensated monetary for their suffering.

Ron had already stated he was getting himself a new wand and a broom before saving the rest, Hermione had been surprised by his mature out-look and made the mistake of commenting— 'that's surprisingly mature of you, Ron'—which kicked off an argument between them that sent Harry towards Calypso, Neville and Luna for some peace.

Which led them to where they currently were, on the lawn of Hogwarts and enjoying the sun—though Calypso was still wearing a thin jumper because Scotland was still too chill for her liking.

Luna and Calypso had carted out a large blanket that they had spread for them to sit on—or in Neville's case, sprawl across with one arm tossed carelessly over his face. After some pouting from Luna, Calypso had grudgingly let her long dark hair down—the curls falling down her back—and allowed Luna to braid daisies into her hair as she read one of her books while Harry simply sat next to her and enjoyed the sun.

"I'm doing Care, Divination and Arithmancy," Harry broke the quiet and Calypso glanced up at him.

"Divination?" Calypso asked with raised eyebrows and Harry shrugged.

"Ron's doing both Care and Divination," he explained, and she accepted that, mostly, but still, what about Runes?

"What about Runes?" Luna asked curiously, bless her for voicing Calypso's own question, and Harry grimaced briefly.

"I talked with Percy," he told them which was surprising as Harry wasn't as fond of Percy as he was of the other Weasleys, "and he said you can request to sit an exam for a subject you've never taken if you prove to the Professor that you know the subject."

"I take it you spoke to Professor Babbling then?" Calypso questioned, and Harry nodded.

"She's not happy that I won't be taking her class despite my interest," he confided, and Calypso wasn't surprised. "But she agreed that I could do independent studying as long as she can oversee my progress bi-monthly—if she's not happy with my progress then she's made it clear that I would be joining her class."

"Do you want to study with us?" Luna asked, peering over Calypso's shoulder at him. "Calypso is very knowledgeable about Runes after all."

"Please," Harry said, and Calypso shrugged, she didn't mind, "I would ask Hermione, but she's gone mental—she's signed up for everything."

"Doesn't Ron think you've also gone mental?" Neville's muffled voice asked curiously, and Harry nodded with a light chuckle.

"Yeah, he doesn't get why I would sign up for three classes when I could get away with just two," Harry informed them in amusement, it was another thing Hermione and Ron were now arguing about.

"I want to do three classes," Calypso pointed out, and Harry threw her a smirk.

"Yeah, but you're a Ravenclaw," he pointed out in teasing amusement. "You're meant to be mental about classes."

Calypso sniffed pointedly before returning to her book though she smiled when she heard Harry chuckle.

"Should we do Divination?" Luna asked her curiously as she gently braided Calypso's curls.

"We'll see what Harry makes of it before we decide," Calypso decided after a moment. "Best not sign up for a class never of us would like."

"True," Luna hummed thoughtfully.

"What are you doing Neville?" Calypso asked, and Neville shifted slightly.

"Care and Divination," he answered reluctantly.

"That's it?" she asked with only the slightest wrinkle of her nose, and Neville cautiously peeked out from under his arm as he nodded. "Well I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, the other subjects don't have much to do with Herbology, do they?"

Neville shook his head with almost visible relief—Harry noted he hadn't told his cousin that he had chosen his two mandated subjects by jabbing at the parchment with his eyes closed, and wisely decided he wouldn't tell Calypso, he doubted she'd be so understanding with that.

"Perhaps you could ask Professor Sprout for extra lessons? Or maybe an independent project?" Calypso suggested out loud—reminding Harry despite her sometimes brash attitude, she was still a Ravenclaw for a reason. "It would give you extra credit towards your Herbology grade and would help you get to use to the independent studying needed to gain a Mastery—maybe I should ask Madame Pomfrey the same for my third year?"

"I don't want to trouble her," Neville told his cousin making her give him a look. "But I'll ask her when I see her."

"Good," Calypso gave him a smile before returning to her book, without his cousin's gaze on him, Neville slumped into himself and Harry reached back to pat him sympathetically on the shoulder.

Luna, however, smiled widely in amusement as she went back to braiding Calypso's hair.

* * *

"You know you don't even have to take Muggle Studies and would still pass the OWL exam," Calypso explained to Hermione as they all crowded in one compartment on the train, Calypso was sat between Luna and Neville on one side and Harry was sat between Ron and Hermione on the other side—Desdemona had been unleashed from her cage and pointedly made herself home on Hermione's lap, the cat had still not forgiven Calypso for not feeding her before she left to search for the Chamber.

Harry hadn't known his friend was a cat-person until she cooed lovingly at the ball of fur that Calypso repeated declared was a demon sent to torture her.

"But it'll be fascinating to learn the wizarding world's view on muggles," Hermione argued as she stroked down Desdemona's back to the cat's approving purrs.

"You don't need to take a class to learn that," Calypso dismissed, "the opinion of wizards boils down to how cute they are for being able to function without magic and how funny their idea of magic is—everything else Muggle Studies would teach is just common bloody sense and general knowledge that you already know."

Hermione pouted; "I still think it would interesting to learn."

"Most muggle-borns take the Muggle Studies OWL exam without once stepping foot in that class and pass easily," Calypso informed her. "You'll just be wasting time, time you could spent on your other subjects, for no reason."

"But I've already chosen it!" Hermione argued, finally taking to heart what Calypso had been trying to tell her since the Ravenclaw found out that Hermione had signed up for Muggle Studies.

"Then just write to Professor McGonagall and say you made a mistake, but you would still like to take the Muggle Studies OWL exam in your fifth year," Calypso told the older girl, not understanding why Hermione had been so set on taking Muggle Studies. "She'll understand, and it's better to do it now before the year starts and your whole timetable will have to be changed."

"Fine," Hermione pouted again before turning towards Harry, "can I borrow Hedwig, Harry?"

"Sure," Harry agreed easily, torn between amazement and amusement at the fact that Calypso was able to change Hermione's mind—neither Ron or Harry had ever been able to change Hermione's mind once she had set it on something.

Soon enough, Hedwig was winging her way back towards Hogwarts with a short note tied to one of her legs.

* * *

 **AN: I hope you like this chapter, so review and tell me your thoughts.**

 **I've decided to make Calypso Shepard's older twin sister in her next life, and I want to reassure people that Calypso isn't going to die anytime soon in this fic, she'll have a long life though I won't detail all of it because frankly I think that would be rather boring and would dull my interesting in completing this story. I've been thinking of pairing Shepard with Liara and Calypso-Shepard with Garrus, tell me what you think of that idea.**

 **People have already began supporting a relationship between Harry and Calypso, I admit I hadn't even thought of that pairing as I was writing, but then I re-read my work and could honestly see it, so I thought I would be kind at let you know this will turn into a HarryxCalypso relationship fic to my surprise—that romance is far in the future though as they are both just kids now.**


	19. Chapter 19

Whatever summer plans Calypso had previous were cancelled by a tight-lipped Andromeda Tonks that had picked her up from the platform.

Her mother's grip had been tight on her shoulder as the older woman had told Calypso's friends that unfortunately Calypso wouldn't be available for most of the summer as she was grounded because of her reckless stupidity at school in a mild tone of voice—Calypso almost gaped at her mother because Andromeda had spoke those words with the same distain and fearful annoyance Calypso spoke them in when she was talking about her sister or her friends, and she wondered if she wasn't that different from her mother after all even with the weird and botched rebirth thing she had going on.

Mum had made sure that Calypso was holding onto Desdemona's carrier tightly and gripped the trunk's handle even tighter before she suddenly apparated without a word of warning—something that told Calypso more than anything that her mother was very displeased with her as everyone knew that Calypso despised apparating without any warning as it made her feel sick and dizzy if she didn't prepare herself.

To be fair, Calypso had only made tentative plans to spend a week or so at Aunt Lucretia's house, but she had inevitably scrapped that plan by giving Aunt Lucretia the Chamber of Secrets and the mystery of Tom Riddle, aka Dark Monster and other such titles, to research—while Calypso had been a bit disappointed at not seeing Aunt Lucretia's library and spending time with her, she didn't really mind because Aunt Lucretia was completely gleeful about her new research projects—and Akira had promised to start teaching her the Wrath, but he was family and had never been stopped coming over so that summer plan was still in the works.

Grounding, in Calypso's opinion, wasn't much of a punishment because she had never been one to spend a lot of time outside or want to go somewhere desperately.

Grounding, in Calypso's world, was almost something she looked forward to as it meant she could hole herself up in her room and read all she wanted, that she could fiddle with her puzzles that Grandpa had bought her or the puzzle boxes he made, that Akira couldn't whine about how she was wasting away and dragged outside like it was the best thing since sliced-bread—Calypso was of the firm opinion that indoor plumbing should be considered the world's greatest invention and not sliced-bread—and Dora couldn't kidnap her and take her half-way across the country to a Weird Sisters' or some other band concert that was always filled with too many people and much too loud for her liking—she preferred listening to music on the radio, on Dora's record player or the Walkman that Victor had given her when he bought himself a new one.

There was some downsides, Calypso could admit, she wasn't allowed to visit Junior's bakery where he would always make sure she had a serving of her favourite chocolate cake and a glass of cold milk ready for her at her little table that allowed her to watch the people that came in and ordered or bought what Junior and his small team of employs made, it meant she couldn't go to Cynthia's and have another potions lesson—though that could be considered a good thing as it also meant she wouldn't be guilted into playing with the Weasley trio by the collective puppy-eyes that they pulled—it meant she couldn't go to Black Imports and explore the basement level where Mum led a team of curse-breakers and other such people as they combed over the enchanted objects that Black Imports moved for clients—always making sure it wasn't too dark, it wasn't going to suddenly kill them, and things like that—it meant she couldn't go to St Mungos and sit in the staff room where Dad's colleagues would tell her tit-bits of what life was like as a Healer and funny patient stories during their breaks and always made sure she had a book of healing magic/potions and such at hand for when they were busy.

(The last two things were relatively new as it only started last year or so after Grandma died from a stroke and Grandpa had a heart-attack from stress so Mum and Dad started to take Calypso with them to work to allow Grandpa to rest, Uncle Alexander had put his foot down when Akira had cheerfully volunteered to look after Calypso for them—Akira already skipped work too much, so he could visit Calypso or Junior, mostly Calypso, as it was)

But overall, Calypso didn't mind being grounded especially as Mum didn't care if Calypso sent letters to her friends with Chuck—Dora's Eastern Screech Owl that she named after Charlie because of the coppery ginger feathers Chuck had reminded her of Charlie's hair—and even if she did mind, Dora didn't mind sending Calypso's letters for her.

* * *

Cassiopeia—Cassi to her family and friends—Black felt her lips curl back in a snarl as her various spells informed her that her suspicion had, indeed, turned out to be true and she glared down furiously at the seemingly innocent necklace she had thrown carelessly on one of tables dotted around the family room.

The chain was silver links and the locket looked heavy, an emerald with a stylised silver S affixed over it, and it nearly reeked of black magic that Cassi recognised and despised—and it was in her niece's home!

Cassi had been a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts before Grindelwald's war and had slipped back into that role after Dumbledore dealt with him—too little, too late, in Cassi's opinion—and she had spent some time in Greece and dealt with some foul things hidden in Temples and buried in ruins of cities long gone, but that wasn't all, even without her experience she would recognise this foul creation as she was a Black and the Blacks had hailed from Greece once and thus knew all about Herpo the Foul—Herpo the Fool he was called in the few records that survived throughout the centuries from that time—and she knew several of his writings was hidden deep in the Black Family Vault.

That meant she knew without a doubt what the necklace was, a Horcrux, a soul container, and it was in her niece's _home_!

"Kreacher!" she snapped, and she spun to glare at him when she heard the small pop of him appearing. "Tell me," she ordered as she pointed at the necklace discarded on the table in furious disgust, "where did Wally get this? Was it hers?"

Kreacher's large eyes fixed on to the necklace and his lips trembled, but he didn't say a word.

"Tell me!" Cassi nearly roared, wand raised in her hand ready to make him tell her if she had to—she would get answers, damn it!

"Master Regulus," he croaked out, voice trembling and Cassi paused at the sound of her late great-nephew's name—Regulus? What? He was too sensible to do create something like _that_! "He took it, took it from the Dark Lord, made me promise, made me promise to destroy it," he looked at her with big watering eyes, imploring her to understand, imploring her to know he had tried his best, "I tried, I failed, I punished myself, I tried, I failed, I punished myself, I tried, I punished myself and I failed Master Regulus!"

"Regulus what?" Cassi asked in shock, her timid great-nephew that Wally browbeat into believing in all her nonsense and allowed Bella to pull him into the Death Eaters stole from the Dark Lord? Stole a Horcrux? "Idiot boy," Cassi turned away, tears burning at the back of her eyes. "He should have come to me."

Cassi could see it now, could see why Regulus died, and wondered how her timid but sensible great-nephew had been so stupid, so reckless. Why hadn't he come to her? The whole family knew what she did for a living! Why did he have to be like Sirius and run off without thinking? Those two were too much alike deep down, Regulus got himself killed by stealing from the Dark Lord and Sirius ended up killing dozens of people and in Azkaban because neither of them bothered to think!

She composed herself firmly before turning back to where Kreacher was hitting himself in punishment.

"Stop," she commanded, and Kreacher froze with his fist raised to hit himself in the head, "tell me everything that happened, tell me what Regulus did and how he found out about this."

And so Kreacher told her, voice trembling, fist inching closer to his head as he fought against her order and tried to punish himself—Cassi was almost impressed by his will-power.

* * *

There was a dead bird on her pillow. And there was a smug blue cat sat beside it as she licked her paws, eyeing her with expectant amber eyes.

Desdemona, Calypso thought with her own smugness, would be disappointed by her reaction.

Calypso's past-self, her original-self, had been a morbid person in her own way—if quite squeamish at the same time—and Calypso was still quite morbid in her own way without the squeamish level—potions' making killed any squeamishness when one was dealing with bits of dead animals and with the knowledge one day you too could be drinking it.

Still, it was on _her_ pillow and that made her scowl at the demon-cat because that was _her_ bloody pillow and she had the gall to drop a dead bird—bloody around the neck, looked like one sharp bite had crushed the delicate bones and killed it—onto her pillow! No treats of milk or cream, that was for sure! Plain old water for her only!

She picked the bird up with gentle hands and considered it thoughtfully. It was a crow, maybe just out of fledgling stage, technically full-grown if on the small side, and hadn't been aware of the dangers of cats when it decided to stop in her garden—perhaps it had been attempting to get one of Grandpa's small fish in the pond? He had just recently gotten several small baby koi carp after all, butterfly koi carps at that—and fallen to the lethal bite of Desdemona without warning as the bite wound looked rather neat under the blood, crushed bone and crumbled feathers.

There were three crows on the Black Crest, the Crest that hung above her desk and was flanked by a poster of the human skeleton on one side and a poster of the commonly used Nordic Runes on the other side.

Was it simply a coincidence? Or did Desdemona have some Kneazle in her that allowed her to recognise the bird from her family's crest?

Calypso glanced up and towards her cat, seeing Desdemona staring at her intently—perhaps waiting for her to scream or drop the carcass in disgust? —and concluded that Desdemona's ears were perhaps a bit bigger than a normal British short-haired cat and her tail had a slight fluffiness near the end which told Calypso that Akira had gifted her with a part Kneazle cat instead of a normal one which also meant it was likely that Desdemona had chosen to go after the crow instead of some other bird in the hopes that it would upset her more—smart and evil, just what Calypso had come to expect from the cat.

"I wonder if Mum will allow me to keep this," Calypso made a point to muse out loud, "I will probably need some peroxide to bleach the bones—maybe Akira could help me with that?"

Desdemona's whole body seemed to slump in disappointed, a sight that Calypso enjoyed perhaps more than she should, and Calypso left her room smiling with a dead bird still in hand—there were perks to being morbid after all.

She would have to change her pillow when she came back, she wasn't morbid enough to sleep with a pillow that was bloody and smelt of dead birds.

* * *

A little over a week later, Calypso found herself bend over her desk as she carefully joined the bleached white and clean crow bones back together with a thin manual drill, stiff wire, pliers and glue.

The flesh had been removed—after the carcass had been boiled overnight after her father helped her pluck the feathers from it, the feathers were cleaned and collected into their own box that she had in one of her desk drawers—and the inside of the bones had been flushed from blood, oils, marrow, cellular tissue and such things by being soaked in a tub of solvents and such. It was a bit disgusting business, but still very interesting in a morbid and probably disgusting way that she shouldn't find so interesting, but well, she was a Black, wasn't she?

She had propped up a book on birds that she found in one of her bookcases, keeping open on the pages with diagrams of bird skeletons as a reference as she put together her crow under the curious amber eyes of Desdemona.

There had been no hisses, no absent bats at her hands, no tail flicking in her face as Calypso worked patiently and carefully with the tiny bones. Desdemona simply sat on the desk, still and curious, and watched Calypso without interfering—it was almost nice and even peaceful.

"You are a ghoulish child," Dora informed her from her doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms folded across her chest. "I can't believe Mum's allowing this."

"It could be worse," Calypso absently told her sister, "I could have wanted to learn taxidermy—just think of this as another one of my puzzles."

"None of your puzzles have been made from bone before," Dora pointed out with a grimace, shuddering at the thought of her baby sister happily stuffing dead animals—putting together skeletons were less creepy, not by much, but still less and Dora decided she preferred that to taxidermy. "It's weird."

"It's interesting," Calypso retorted, focusing more on keeping her hands steady than on her sister. "And they were made from the corpses of trees, those poor dead trees."

Puzzles didn't come easy to Calypso, a side-effect of her dyslexia, but she had gotten better out of sheer determination not to make her Grandpa sad by not being able to do or play with his puzzle boxes and such that he made or got her.

All those hours she had spent putting puzzles together were finally paying off with this project, a project she would never have thought of if Desdemona hadn't attempted to freak her out with a dead bird, and a project that she found herself enjoying—she may have found herself a new hobby.

"Has Hogwarts made you weirder or have you become too old for it to be considered cute now?" Dora mused mostly to herself.

"So-chan will always be cute," Akira said firmly as he slid passed her and into Calypso's room without waiting for Calypso to acknowledge him and he nearly bounced over to Calypso, caging her in with his arms and placing his chin on the top of her head. "Do you need help, So-chan?"

"Don't you have work?" Calypso asked in return, biting her lip as she carefully threaded one of the small bones onto a wire.

"But you're so much more important," Akira told her, rubbing her head with his chin—annoying older cousins. "And work is so boring."

"It's meant to be boring otherwise it wouldn't be work," Calypso informed him bluntly making him laugh, his laugh shaking her own body and making her have to stop her work for a long-annoyed moment.

"So-chan is so wise," Akira said almost happily, tilting his head until it was his cheek pressed to her hair and not his chin.

"And Akira is so weird," Calypso replied without blinking, and Dora scoffed.

"You're both weird," Dora informed them before she left with a wave, "bye weirdos."

"Are you having fun?" Akira asked curiously, not truly hindering from her work.

"Yes," Calypso said simply, it was fun, and she didn't care how morbid or ghoulish it made her—it would useful one day, maybe, there was a possibility that it could be useful at any rate.

"Good," Akira hummed, shifting so he could see what she was doing. "What are you going to do with it?"

"Put it in a bell-jar and display it," Calypso answered without hesitation and she could feel Akira's smile as he pressed his lips against the top of her head.

"Dora was right," Akira said in odd delight, "So-chan really is a ghoulish child."

Calypso shrugged, so what?

"You should get used to death, So-chan," he continued lightly, "for Blacks revel in the death of our enemies, it makes our blood sing for more."

Calypso stilled.

"You will be Lady Black, your enemies will become ours," Akira carried on, tone content, "and we will slaughter them in your name, present their heads for you on our knees."

"I think that will only be you, Akira," Calypso told him slowly and Akira hummed in agreement.

"That will make me your favourite then, right?" he sounded hopeful, and Calypso swallowed tightly.

"Of course," she told him and remained passive as he hugged her as well as he could as she remained sitting.

Yes, Aunt Cassi was right, Akira truly was born in the wrong generation. This century, this generation of the family, were too civilised and gentle for him, would always cage him and deny him his pound of flesh and blood.

But then Calypso thought of Dora, of Dora's death—older, but not that much older than she was now, still and pale, pink hair fading, and cheerful dark eyes closed forever—and knew that Calypso would unleash him onto anyone that tried to take her family from her, tried to take Dora from her.

Perhaps, just perhaps, Akira hadn't been born in the wrong generation, perhaps he had always been meant for this generation and for _her_. And Calypso knew without a doubt that Akira would slaughter her enemies, would bring their heads to her if she asked, and all she had to do was ask because she was Akira's and Akira was hers in a way only Blacks would—could—understand.

She reached up and gripped one of his wrists in an almost affection hold, and he hummed happily.

Akira was most undoubtable crazy when it came to normal standards, he was more than mildly worrying for Black standards, but he was her cousin, _hers_ , and she accepted him, could never truly fear him, and she knew without a doubt that with Akira by her side—and he would always be by her side, he promised, he vowed—that she could save Dora, that she could save her family, and that thought, that realisation, made her slump in relief in his hold.

All those years of worrying, of wondering, and the answer had been staring at her straight in the face, had curled himself protectively and possessively around her since she was a babe and she hadn't seen it. How stupid was she? What a fool she had been not to realise!

"Thank you, Akira," she breathed out, her shoulders not feeling as weighted down as they had been since she remembered, when she realised that Dora could die if she did nothing, if she remained idle and passive.

For the first time in years, Calypso had hope, fragile and terrible hope.

"Anything for So-chan," Akira promised into her dark locks.

* * *

 **AN; Yeah, I have no idea where most of this came from, but I like it and I hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well.**

 **I have read your reviews and a common request is that I swap the pairings in the Mass Effect fic which I'm okay with as it was just one of the ideas I was toying with.**

 **I have also been toying with adding a Male Shepard cousin, but I wonder if that would be too much for galaxy to handle? Two Shepard's seem bad enough, especially one that used to be a Black, so I may just scrap that idea—can't give the Councillors too much of a heart-attack after all.**

 **Also, Rayne and Jayne Shepard? Stupid or not? Give me your thoughts please!**


	20. Chapter 20

It seemed that to properly bond with Desdemona, Calypso simply had to display her interest in dead things for Desdemona to decide her owner wasn't so bad and that she would do—damning praise really—and Desdemona exchanged her hobby of annoying Calypso into catching small animals for Calypso.

Calypso now had a plastic tub in her bedroom for the small creatures that Desdemona caught and brought back with pride, she would plump it down in the tub and meow loudly for attention and recognition for her skill, and she would purr smugly when Calypso would admire her kill and the newest animal that she would add to her skeleton collection dotted around her room—Dora always made a face whenever she entered the room now.

(Calypso now had plenty of two-day projects to do as each skeleton took two days to put together properly and with care.)

The skeletons looked odd next to her collection of soft-toys, paper-cranes-and-butterfly mobiles straight from Japan, and her massive collection of books, but Calypso didn't care, she had always been an odd person even without the added memories in her head, and this was just another sign of her oddness in her opinion.

The skeletons were mostly of birds, the odd mouse and once a snake—she had taken great delight into rendering the snake to bones, still bothered by nightmares of the Chamber and the thought of the basilisk not to take some sort of twisted delight at besting a serpent.

Akira was delighted every time he popped by and saw Desdemona curled up with Calypso or sitting on her desk beside her as Calypso put together one of her skeletons, he would actually coo about how happy he was that they loved each other so much—Desdemona and herself would always end up sharing a look when he started.

When he wasn't doing that, he pulled her down and into the back garden where he set up a ward-cage for her to practise calling on the Wrath within.

Getting angry was easy, she had never had the best temper and she was a Black, but she had a harder time to drop into the mindscape of the Wrath.

It was because she was afraid, Calypso knew, that was stopping her.

Strangely, it wasn't fear of what she would become, what she could do, if she fell into Wrath—she had read their histories, she was very much aware of the horror the Blacks could inflict while in Wrath—but what would happen if she couldn't do it, couldn't fall into Wrath, into the headspace where fear was a distance thing, morals nothing more than broken chains, and rage driving her every movement, her every thought and spell?

Would she be able to maim, to kill, without the Wrath? Could she protect her loved ones without the Wrath?

She didn't know and that was what scared her more than anything—stupid really.

Dora's lessons—read; excuse to throw hexes and other spells at her—were easier and more difficult at the same time. Dora barked at her to move, to defend, to hold her shield— "Who cares your first-year? Obviously, you don't when hit with stupidity! Hold the damn shield!"—to fight back with everything she had— "You call that a hex! I've been hit with tickling-charms with more kick to them!"—and to mean every blow landed, to dodge when she could shield and to think— "You're a Ravenclaw, aren't you? Use that damn brain of yours for something!"

Even Kris had gotten into the 'beating some fighting experience' into her thing, but chose to go with knife and short-sword fighting— "they'll be too busy watching your wand to see the knife in your other hand, use that against them"—and drilled her into each lethal spot she could stab her foe in— "Go for the larynx, there's too much cartilage to protect the carotid artery for a direct hit to work properly. Go for the armpit, the axillary artery is close enough to the heart that the blood will come spurting out—keep in mind what they are wearing if you chose that route. Go between the ribs, classic really, you only need to pierce the lung for it to fill up in blood and drown them. Go for a stab near the groin to get to the femoral artery, bleeding out will be rapid, or the back of the knee to get the popliteal artery."—and she would transfigure animals so Calypso would get used to the feel of hot blood on her face and hands—Mum had shrieked when she first saw Calypso come stumbling in from the garden, pale and shaking and covered in blood, and she had almost lunged at Kris when she had followed calmly, shouting that they weren't at war anymore and to "stop training my daughter like a soldier!" not that stopped Kris, she had simply made sure to time her training sessions for when Mum was busy with work (showing that Kris was more Black than most thought).

Thanks to those lessons, Calypso was mildly confident that she wouldn't freeze from hot blood hitting her and she could defend herself and others without falling into the Wrath. She was also mildly confident that she wouldn't hesitate in kill small animals and such, if she learnt how to skin them, clean them and cook them then she should be able to survive out in the wilderness.

She also was sure that she would never be able to look at Kris the same way, not when she had held her wrists tightly and refused to let Calypso cringe back from the small deer that Kris had transfigured and Calypso had stabbed, Kris hadn't let her back away, had made her feel the hot blood splatter against her and the life leave the animal—it didn't matter that it always turned back into some sticks or something like, Calypso was still covered in blood, she could still feel the frantic beat of their hearts as their life's blood drained from them because of her.

It was for Dora, for Dad, for Mum, for Luna, for Harry, for Neville, for everyone she loved and cared about, she would remind herself firmly whenever she woke up from nightmares, whenever her hands shook, and she could see the blood encrusted under her nails. Better now then when it could mean their lives, she would repeat to herself, better to get used to it now, on animals before she was faced with humans—monsters, monsters for targeting her family, her friends—she would think to herself.

Desdemona, warm and living, comforting and soft, calm heart beat and gentle purrs, was a great comfort for her that summer—something she had never expected, but was helplessly grateful for.

Aunt Cassi—the few times that Calypso saw her—would purse her lips and nod in approval as Calypso told her about her lessons, something dark and coldly enraged in her eyes as Aunt Cassi told her to keep learning and that it may be useful soon—soon, not one day, what had Aunt Cassi come across to make her sound so certain? —before pressing a book of offensive and defensive runes to learn, books filled with rune traps and quick wards, and Aunt Cassi would look at her seriously as she informed her to learn them by heart, to make sure she could carve or write them from memory without mistake.

It was after Kris' lessons that Calypso found it easier to fall closer to the Wrath under Akira's intent and approving eyes.

* * *

Cassi had ripped through Grimmauld Place before she was satisfied that there was no other abomination like the locket in the house and there was nothing that radiated dark/black magic like the locket did—there was some pieces that wasn't fit for public viewing and other things that she destroyed without second thought, but nothing as foul as a horcrux.

Kreacher followed in her wake, whimpering and crying fat tears as he attempted to tidy up behind her—too little, too late in Cassi's opinion as the house had been a pigsty when she first arrived, how could Wally live in such filth? Had she lost all her senses? Or had Alphard been the only one with a stable mind between Pollux's three brats? If so, it was no wonder her great-nieces and nephews had so little sense.

Cassi had almost had a fit and very nearly marched up to Wally's portrait to give that spoiled little brat a piece of her mind when she had see the family tree in the family room, filled with burnt off portraits of family members that Wally had decided was undesirable or she plain disliked. It had been in their family for generations and Wally had burnt it? What a foolish little twit she was! Did she have any family pride? Or did she actually believe the nonsense she was always sprouting?

No wonder Orion died so young, he no doubt did it to get away from his harpy of a wife! Why Orion finally decided on Wally, Cassi would never understand, he should have chosen someone, anyone, else for his bride.

If he only felt comfortable around the family then he should have taken Lysander as a bride, she would have done her duty to give him his children and wouldn't have poisoned the children's minds nor would she let her limited power go to her head like Wally did—fond of her niece or not, Cassi had never truly liked the little bitch that Pollux and Irma had spawned, she hadn't cared for Cygnus either, but she had liked Alphard and of course Marius' children.

In Cassi's opinion, Lysander and Orion would have been better suited as neither was truly interested in people—they had no interest in pursuing a romantic relationship—and it would have taught Wally some sense—she had been sprouting about how she would marry Orion for years—and taught her to deal with disappointment—maybe Orion would be still alive, maybe Regulus would still be alive, perhaps Sirius wouldn't be keeping his cousin company in Azkaban if Orion had chosen Lysander or if Cassi had spoken up before the wedding.

Cassi shook her head, it was useless to think about the maybes and the could-have-been. What was done was done, and now they all had to live with it, and Calypso would have to lead them out of the mess they made of themselves.

Calypso would do that, Cassi had no doubt about it, she would dig them out of the hole they had buried themselves in and make the Black name something to be respected again—all with Akira at her side, smiling murder at anyone who would attempt to cross his cousin and Lady.

It was almost a shame that a marriage couldn't be arranged between those two, it would have given Calypso the Black name without her worrying about upsetting her father and Akira would never dishonour or shame her—Andromeda wouldn't hear of it though and Akira had placed himself firmly in the family column as Calypso grew up, so the idea was a bust before it could be really be thought about.

Perhaps it was a good thing, bringing in new blood in the family and all that. And hopefully by letting Calypso chose her spouse herself without pressure, they wouldn't end up with another marriage like Orion and Wally's.

She shook her head again—breaking her from her thoughts—and caught sight of the silver glowing box, covered in purity and suppression runes and surrounded by a crystal ward cage, on the table in front of her.

She glowered at it and her hand twitched for her wand, the locket was secure in the box and it made her itch to have it so near, whole and untampered.

Normally, if she was at any one of the digs she had been in the past, she would have levelled a healthy amount of Fiendfyre at it wouldn't hesitating, but unfortunately, her spells on the soul piece—torn, malformed, twisted thing it was—had told her that the Horcrux she had before her wasn't the Dark Lord's only one—the Fool had actually split his soul several times! Didn't he knew that it was taboo of the highest order to mess with ones' soul? No wonder he was so insanely reckless near the end, none of the careful ruthlessness of the beginning of his personal war was seen before he met his defeat at the Potters' hands.

Cassi couldn't destroy it, not when the locket could be the only clue she had to the other Horcruxes, and she couldn't ignore that knowledge as the Dark Lord was a threat to her family, to Calypso.

Luckily, Calypso was being prepared for what was to come—even if Andromeda didn't like it, even if Calypso had nightmares, Cassi didn't care as long as it meant Calypso knew how to survive, to fight for her life and be the victor.

Andromeda would understand, Cassi knew, she should have some understanding now considering what had just happened at Hogwarts with the Basilisk and that diary….a diary that possessed a child…...a diary that possessed a child into unleashing a basilisk—mother-bloody-horcrux!

Cassi stood hurriedly and made her way to the fireplace, she had to talk to Andromeda, had to make her understand now, to make her aware of the war that was no doubt coming.

* * *

For the first time in over a decade—almost two—Lord Arcturus Black sent out a summoning, unleashing the infamous Black crows to bring the family to him.

Some may have been convinced that the summoning was about the news of Sirius Black, once-wayward Heir of House Black, escaping from Azkaban to apparently hunt down Harry Potter. It would have been a good guess, but was unfortunately wrong.

No, the reason for the summoning had little to do with Sirius Black and everything to do with Tom Riddle, Dark Lord, and the fact he had broken one of the few taboos even the Blacks upheld by creating horcruxes.

Calypso was twelve and was the youngest perhaps in the room, sat to the right hand of Lord Arcturus at the table with Akira standing behind her left—refusing to sit and smiling at certain members of the family whenever the glanced over at her.

Aunt Cassi sat at Lord Arcturus's left, glowing rune-covered box surrounded by a crystal ward cage in front of her.

Aunt Lucretia had answered the call, had heeded the summoning, and sat next to Cassi with thick notebook in front of her.

Mum, Dad and Dora sat together next to Calypso, followed by Marius and his lot; Uncle Alexander, Aunt Ayame and Cousin Hanako straight from Japan, Junior and Kris represented their mother—she was holding down the bakery front—and Cynthia sat with her siblings.

Lysander Crouch, always more a Black than a Crouch, sat beside Aunt Lucretia and there were several empty seats between Lysander Crouch and Narcissa Malfoy nee Black—standing out with her ash-blonde hair—who sat with her parents, Cygnus and Druella, followed by Pollux and Irma at the end of the table.

It occurred to Calypso then just how small the other side of the family was, that the majority already stood with her and would continue to do so, and that the old Black family was dying out, slowly and bitterly, but still dying out all the same.

"Why are we here, Arcturus?" Pollux Black grumbled, casting dark looks towards Marius and Ted Tonks. "More importantly, why are they here?"

"I think the more important question, dear brother," Aunt Cassi spoke up, voice sharp and cold, "is why are you here? We all know what side you have chosen, and it's not the family's side—there was no reason for them to be summoned, 'Rus."

"Like it or not, Cassi, they are still family," Lord Arcturus spoke up. "They should know the consequences of their actions."

"Lord Arcturus?" Narcissa queried, "What is this about?"

Lord Arcturus looked at her evenly before turning to Calypso; "My heir?"

Calypso's already straight shoulders straightened even more as she attempted to draw herself up to a greater height in her seat.

"As of two days ago," Calypso began, resisting the urge to chew on her bottom lip—weakness couldn't be shown in front of enemies. "House Black has declared war on Tom Marvolo Riddle, known as the Dark Lord Voldemort, for his crimes against the family and using tabooed soul-magic to linger on the mortal plane. All those that stand with him will fall to our wands and our blades, we will bath in their blood and reveal in their horror, for Wrath has been stirred and violence will be the answer, so mote it be."

"So mote it be," her side of the family, the majority of the family, chorused in turn.

Those ancient words, powerful words, bound themselves around all that sat around the table, sinking deep into their very magic as the will of the Head of House Black was heard—be it the Heir at the moment—and magic enforced that will, no one that sat at the table would be able to aid the Dark Monster, no one would be able to breath a word of what was discussed to him or his allies, and their magic would rebel if they attempted to aid him and his.

Narcissa Malfoy crumbled in on herself, eyes almost wild as she stared in disbelief at her youngest niece. Her husband, her son, her mind screamed at her, how could she protect them from the Wrath? From her own Maiden House?

"What?" Cygnus Black's face reddened while his father's, Pollux, face paled as he stared at the head of the table in disbelief. "What nonsense is this?"

"This is not nonsense, Cygnus," Lord Arcturus told him firmly, "the only nonsense here is what you insist of sprouting. War has been declared, son of my cousin, and if you do not stand with us, with the family and with the Head's will, then you stand against us and will be cut down with the rest of Riddle's ilk."

"You would become a kin-slayer?" Pollux asked his cousin and Lord Arcturus looked at him.

"Your granddaughter already stained your side of the family by spilling Black blood," Lord Arcturus informed him pointedly. "Or have you forgotten Callidora Longbottom nee Black? Our cousin? What about Callidora's grandson? Your granddaughter tortured him and his wife into insanity and felt no remorse when tried, you wish to ask me about being a kin-slayer? When your actions brought about Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black, the worse kin-slayer and betrayer in our modern history? And let us not forget your daughter, Walburga Black, that drove my son, Orion, to his death and encouraged my youngest grandson to bow and beg to a Half-Blood bastard son of the Squib until his death?"

"Bastard son of Squib?" Cygnus repeated in disbelief as Pollux slumped back into his chair.

"Yes, cousin," Lucretia smiled at him, slow and darkly amused. "You can read all about him in my new book—it will be a very enlightening read for many, I suspect."

"My husband," Narcissa whimpered and Lord Arcturus settled his cold dark eyes on her.

"Your husband could have killed every student in Hogwarts—including your son—with his latest stunt," Lord Arcturus spoke sharply making Narcissa abort a flinch. "He has shown his colours, has shown his lack of honour, and thus he has chosen his side—the wrong side at that."

Narcissa bowed her head, her shoulders only shaking once ever-so-slightly as she pushed back tears she could not let fall, before looking up at her niece.

Calypso Tonks, Heiress Black, stared back with no pity, no remorse, nothing but a gleam of Black Wrath lurking in her dark eyes. Narcissa would get no mercy for her husband from her, Narcissa knew, but what of her son? What of Draco? Could he be saved? Would she give him, her cousin, mercy? Narcissa didn't know, but she had to hope.

* * *

 **AN; Yeah, so that happened. I don't know how that happened, I just started writing and then the Black family was declaring war on Voldemort before I knew it. So I hope you like it! Please tell me your thoughts!**


	21. Chapter 21

Arcturus Black had intended Grimmauld Place to be Calypso's home, it had been the home he had grown up in, the home he raised his children in, it had been the home he gave his son for his own family and it was the home he was reclaiming for his heir—not the heir he expected, not of his direct blood, but still the heir he had chosen.

Those plans he had for Grimmauld Place, for Calypso, were scrapped and shelved by the end of the meeting in Black Hall and instead Grimmauld Place would be their headquarters for the war they were going to rise against Riddle and his ilk.

It wouldn't be the massacres of old, the bloody battlefields of wars in the Black's past, no, the world was more civilised now—better at lying to themselves and hiding all the darker parts of what made them human—and the Blacks couldn't unleash themselves onto their enemies without thought, without planning.

Calypso Black—Tonks may be the name she wore, but she was a Black before anything else—was young, only twelve, and yet she stood with her family at her back and Wrath lurking in her dark eyes as they planned war without mercy, without remorse.

She may have not been the heir he expected, the heir he had once wanted, but she was the heir that he had chosen, and she would bring a reckoning as Lady Black, Arcturus knew without a doubt and more than a hint of pride.

* * *

It was said that the first Black was sired by the War God, Ares, and his godly father gifted him with enough battle-rage and blood-lust to rival his godly-born children.

It was said that Ares gifted and cursed his mortal son, the first Black, in one move by giving him a fraction of his Wrath—not just the Wrath of a God, but the Wrath of a War God—that ran hot through his veins and then in the veins of his children and so on.

It was said that sometimes Ares' Wrath burned too hot in the veins of his mortal descents, that those Blacks burnt brightly, briefly, and fiercely as they took down as many people with them to the realm of Lord Hades as they could.

It was said the first Blacks bathed in the blood of their enemies, wore their bones in their hair, and slayed monsters for sport.

It was said that the first Blacks courted the favour of the Goddess, Nemesis, and they paid tribute to her whenever the committed a massacre in the name of retribution and justice.

It was said the Blacks' heart beats beat to the time of war drums and the anguished screams of their enemies.

It was said that the Blacks built their fortune, their empire, on the bones of their enemies, blood-stained gold and some of the darkest magic known to man.

It was said that the Blacks had been courted by many of the Dark Lords and Ladies, some they had joined and others they had destroyed—it always depended on the whim of their Head.

It was said a Black had a hand in all the worst slaughters in history, that they were drawn to blood and war like sharks.

It was said when the Blacks power began to decline, the whole world released a breath of relief.

Aunt Cassi said the world was too hopeful for the fall of the Blacks.

Akira said if the world knew the truth, they would tremble in fear and beg for their gods to save them from the Wrath.

And Calypso? Calypso believed it, she could believe it all.

* * *

Grimmauld Place was gutted shortly after the meeting closed and Pollux's family retreated from sight, but not mind.

Kreacher had wailed, had screeched, as bit by bit his home was destroyed and repurposed for war until Aunt Cassi reached the end of her patience and stunned the House-elf without a second thought and a disgusted mutter of 'mad House-elves'.

The basement was repurposed into a dungeon, torture chamber and a morgue—for the corpses of their enemies, of course. Akira had lovingly cleaned and oiled the Blacks' old torture devices and tools with almost serene happiness that would have made any sane person uneasy, but didn't even make the family more than blink once—some had smiled—and moved on.

The family room had been expanded and turned into an infirmary under the stern eyes of Aunt Victoria and Dad, its Floo connection was password locked and each member of the family now wore an emergency Portkey keyed directly to the infirmary.

The dining room was enlarged and redesigned to look like a fancy military mess to feed the family and whatever allies they gathered—allies that they were already scouting for.

A cupboard under the stairs had been turned into a weapons locker, blades of various shapes and sizes, crossbows and bolts, and Victor had shown up one day with a smile and a box filled with guns and ammo in his arms to his father's disbelief— "where did you get that?" Benjamin had spluttered, and Victor looked at him almost in pity, "you don't want to know, Dad, you really don't."

(When Victor then offered lessons for anyone that wanted to know how to shoot a gun, Uncle Benjamin didn't even ask, and Mum only made a slight face when Kris threw Calypso at her cousin without hesitation.

Aunt Gloria joined her for several lessons as she learnt to shoot a shotgun until she was satisfied that she was able to wield it— "Next time Death Eaters come for my bakery, I'll blow their brains out," she told Calypso cheerfully—and never went anywhere without her shotgun hidden in her enchanted gun-holster she wore under her cardigans.)

Cynthia had waltzed into Grimmauld Place one day with Theresa balanced expertly on her hip and began directing just how she expected her potions' lab to be set up as Theresa, all bright red curls and dark eyes, watched in fascinated silence without her brother egging her on to be as loud as possible.

Aunt Lucretia and Lysander was unleashed onto the library and given access to the large collection of tomes, journals and writings that the Blacks had collected and stored over the years—quite a few were stolen, some taken from the still warm corpses of their enemies—though Lysander ended up in charge as Aunt Lucretia continued with her book—gleefully envisioning the reactions it would cause as she wrote.

Aunt Cassi and Uncle Ignatius—call me Uncle Iggy—set up their own lab with a secure vault—a vault covered in runes and wards to hold whatever horcruxes they found and hoarded—as they were going to work together to track down the other horcruxes amongst over things—things that made Uncle Iggy cackle madly and seemed to involve explosives from the booms and smoke that seeped out of the door.

(Calypso finally knew where the twins got their mad scientist thing from, and the mad scientist cackle they sometimes delighted in just to see the look of dread on the faces of their fellow students and even some of the professors.)

Bedrooms were either expanded into several rooms or into long dorm-styled rooms to allow dozens of people to sleep comfortably.

Grimmauld Place was ready for war.

* * *

Ayame had been a Hamasaki before she had been a Black, she had been a proud daughter to her family with a reputation something alike what the Black family held—not as dark, not as bloody, but few families could ever match the Blacks in those areas.

They had been samurai, Ronin and then settled as Yakuza with little fuss, they ruled their territory well, protected their interests fiercely and had every police officer and official in their pockets.

When Marius Black came to Japan's shores to expand his business, it had been Hamasaki territory that he had wanted to build in, and Ayame's grandfather would not allow him to build without securing an iron-clad alliance.

Alexander Black had come with his father, had sat patiently beside his father as Marius and her Grandfather bantered their alliance—an alliance to be sealed with a marriage—and when Grandfather had asked which of Marius' three children he would be offering the Hamasaki family, Alexander had smoothly spoken up and offered himself without hesitation.

Alexander Black was his father's only son, the heir to the Black Import empire, and Grandfather wasn't foolish enough to let such a prize—despite his lack of magic—slip between his fingers.

Ayame had sat with her siblings and cousins, she had eyed the tall man that looked much like his father though with blue hazel eyes, and wondered where was his Wrath? The hidden blades and poisoned words? Was he not a Black? Why was he so self-contained? So reserved? Did he have no Wrath or was his Wrath so much he needed such strict control over himself?

He intrigued her, she wanted to know what made him tick, what would make him snap his control and show the world that his blood was as Black as his name, and so Ayame in turn offered herself in the marriage—her curiosity, her mother once told her, would get her into trouble—and soon found herself being married twice—once in Japan, in her home, surrounded by her family, and once in England, in her new home, surrounded by his family—and settled in a new house far from her family.

Over their years of marriage, Ayame was proud to say she had wrecked his tight control over himself—but not his Wrath, never his Wrath—many times.

For a while, she had been certain that her husband was a Black without Wrath, a tiger without claws or fangs, and she had almost been disappointed until her son was born, fierce Akira who screamed his Wrath for all to hear from the moment he was freed from her womb and would rage without pause whenever he could.

Angry, fierce Akira whose Wrath was almost too much for his little body, and Ayame had wept over her fierce warrior when he would finally sleep as she was convinced his Wrath would burn him from the inside out, that he would die before he could live.

She would sleep restlessly after spending hours uselessly trying to calm her son, to sooth his Wrath, but she couldn't, and she was certain that she would lose him.

But then one day, she had woken up to silence—a silence she had feared meant the death of her child—but when she had stumbled to her son's room, it was to find Alexander there—back from the business trip that kept him away from his son's birth and first rage filled weeks of life—and he was holding a blissfully silent Akira, who simply stared up at his father with big dark eyes.

"You are a Black," he had muttered to his son, "too much of a Black perhaps for you have Ares' Wrath strong within you, a God's Wrath was never meant to be held in a mortal's body, but the Blacks had endured it, have thrived despite the God's Wrath in our veins, and you will do the same. The Wrath will always be part of you, you'll never be able to escape it for even a moment unlike your cousin, and that means you will have to control it by sheer force of will. You will not fail, you will not falter, you are a Black, and more importantly, you are my son."

Alexander had looked at her then, blue-hazel eyes dark with the famous Black Wrath, and their son calm in his arms with his own Wrath just lurking in his dark eyes.

Ayame had never loved him more than in that moment.

Her husband would never be able to use magic, the family magic was out of his reach, and he was branded as trash by the more magically inclined members of his family, but he had the Black Wrath, he had their ruthlessness, and he was still as dangerous as any other Black, and Ayame loved him for it.

So, when the family declared war—when Akira's little So-chan had called for war and the family answered—what else could she do for the man she loved, for her fierce son and his beloved chosen Lady, for her family, but plan to petition her Maiden House for men, killers and warriors, to fight for them?

When the time for action comes, when they are needed and called to her side, she will smile—as sharp as the blades she hides as simple hairpieces and as sweet as the poison she was once famed for using—as they fall in submissive before her son's Wrath before he makes them heel in front of little So-chan.

She was a daughter of the Hamasaki family, she was a wife and mother of the Black family, and she was proud of it all.

* * *

Neville Longbottom was not an eavesdropper, he didn't casually spy on people or even blatantly spy on people, but everyone had those days when they go against their grain and do something they normally didn't do.

For Neville, today was that day and he was eavesdropping on his Gran's meeting with Cassiopeia Black—Aunt Cassi to his gran, and to both Calypso and himself which was an odd thought to think about.

It was not an odd thing for Aunt Cassi to drop in on them, for Gran and Aunt Cassi to have private teas, but Aunt Cassi had never foretold her arrival with a crow before—a crow that made his grandfather pale and his gran to purse her lips as it settled itself on their breakfast table—and Gran had never strictly forbidden him from joining them before.

"I had thought the War Crows had died out," his gran's voice mused, drifting out of the window and to where Neville lay completely still and hidden in the flowering bushes.

"Wistful thinking," Aunt Cassi snorted, "as wistful as the belief that the House of Black is dying—as if we'd die out with a whimper and not a bloody massacre."

"Perhaps," Gran allowed, "I'm curious for why you are using them, I thought the Blacks only used them for war—hence the name after all."

"Because the family has declared war, my dear Augusta," Aunt Cassi told her, a dark glee and relish in her voice that almost made Neville shudder.

"War?" Gran repeated in shock, "with whom?"

"The Dark Lord," Aunt Cassi told her gleefully, and thankfully Gran's sharp intake covered his own.

"He's dead," Gran hissed, "he died to the Potter boy—"

"Do not be foolish, Augusta," Aunt Cassi cut her off, "one should never assume the enemy has died unless their rotting corpse is placed before you—a pearl of Black wisdom for you."

"He's alive then?" Gran asked sharply, "you have proof?"

"Yes," Aunt Cassi replied without hesitation, "yes, we have proof and we know how he escaped death from whatever happened at the Potters. Surely Neville has told you of what happened at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Gran's voice was tight with disapproval. "Blasted Dumbledore should have informed us exactly what was going on, a basilisk in Hogwarts, slithering around and petrifying our children? He's luck it was resolved without bloodshed. Are you saying _He_ had something to do with it?"

"Indirectly," Aunt Cassi confirmed, "but directly? Lucius Malfoy attempted a foolish plot involving something that did not belong to him in the hopes of discrediting Arthur Weasley."

"Are you telling me that Lucius Malfoy unleashed a basilisk in Hogwarts—while his son was attending and thus in danger—in a feeble attempt to discredit Arthur Weasley?" Gran seethed before scoffing scornfully. "I thought Slytherins were meant to be cunning."

"Unfortunately, it's Slytherins like him that gives us all a bad name," Aunt Cassi sighed. "But yes, he did, unfortunately there is no proof—Harry Potter destroyed what controlled the basilisk when he killed it."

"He actually killed the basilisk by himself? I thought it was another tall-tale the Prophet likes to sprout," Gran said almost thoughtfully, "brave of him, extremely foolish, but brave."

"You'll have no arguments from me," Aunt Cassi's voice tightened slightly, "especially considering our Calypso got herself mixed up with it all."

"Calypso?" there was shock in his Gran's voice, "how?"

"She figured out where the Chamber was and ignored all the brains the Gods gave her to check it out herself," Aunt Cassi spoke in disapproval. "Luckily, she only ended up with one of her legs crushed and a number of bruises and cuts."

"Luckily," Gran scoffed. "I take it she's getting put through her paces by the family for her foolish behaviour."

"Of course," Neville could almost hear the smile in Aunt Cassi's voice and he winced in sympathy for his cousin—no wonder her letters had been rather short this summer.

There was a long silence broken only by the scrape of Gran's tea-set.

"You're here for an alliance," Gran finally broke the silence thoughtfully.

"Yes," Aunt Cassi answered easily and without hesitation.

"This war, will it be like last time?" Gran questioned.

"Augusta, we are Blacks, not Dumbledore or his Order nor do we concern ourselves overly much with what the Ministry says," Aunt Cassi spoke rather proudly. "This will be a proper war, with blood and vengeance."

"Vengeance," Gran mused, "I still want Bellatrix Lestrange's head for what she did."

"It can be arranged," Aunt Cassi said easily. "Do you want the whole head intact and preserved? Or will her skull do?"

"Intact and preserved so I can mount it on my wall," Gran said fiercely, and Aunt Cassi laughed.

"Your mother would be so proud of you," Aunt Cassi informed her fondly, proudly.

Neville lay in the earth, life-giving and comforting earth, as he became deaf to the rest of the conversion.

War, You-Know-Who, somehow Neville couldn't find himself to be surprised. It was like he already knew it was coming, already suspected that You-Know-Who wasn't really gone, and that the war his parents fought—and lost everything that made them who they were as they did—wasn't done and that he would have to raise his wand in their place.

It was terrifying, but Neville knew he couldn't run away or he'd never be able to face the wasted features of his mother, of the lax face of his father. How could Neville run away or refuse to fight when his parents sacrificed their own sanity when they refused to break under Bellatrix Lestrange's wand?

He couldn't, he wouldn't. The Hat had placed him in Gryffindor for a reason, he reminded himself sternly, he could be brave, and he would be brave, brave like his father, like his mother, and he would fight for them and for his friends against the likes of You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters.

Just hopefully not now—he still needed a bit more time, time to be brave, time to become a great or even good wizard like his father before him.

* * *

Akira had never frightened her, not when she was a toddler and he pulled funny faces that pulled on the scar that marred the left side of his face, not as she grew up and realised just how, well, insane Akira could be. How could she ever be scared of Akira? He was Akira, her cousin, and he loved her with everything he had.

He was always ready to smile at her, he was always ready to indulge her, he was always quick with a hug or cuddle, and he was always there for her.

Nothing, she had decided when she was younger, could ever make her afraid of Akira.

Not even this, Calypso realised dimly as she paused in the doorway torture room that Akira had so-carefully set up and found the source of the screams that had distracted her from her books.

There was a man stretched painfully across the rack, limbs twisted and bloody as he sobbed hopeless as Akira stared down at him with dark remorseless eyes.

"Akira…" Calypso trailed off and Akira turned to her with a smile, his t-shirt had been discarded and through the blood painted across his chest she could see the knotted scars that spread across his thin chest—a few of the scars was from his work as an auror, but most of them came from the underground duels that he dominated for fun, for release of the blood-lust and battle-rage that warred within him.

"So-chan," he called brightly, lovingly, and held out a bloodstained hand for her. "Come see what I've done!"

Any normal twelve-year-old girl would have hesitated, would have cringed away and screamed, hell any normal person would, and Calypso realised dimly that her old-self, gone and buried under Calypso and just real because of half-forgotten and faded memories, would have done the same.

But not Calypso, no, she took her cousin's hand, felt the slickness of the blood that covered his hand and let him pull her closer, over to the mess of a man that had someone displeased him, and didn't even cringe when he pressed against her back, arms looping around her neck as the tacky and drying blood stuck her t-shirt to his bare chest.

She did gag slightly, forced herself to breath shallowly through her mouth as the stink of human waste, primal terror and coppery iron blood turned her stomach.

"Easy, So-chan, you'll get used to the smell," Akira told her soothingly before he reached out and twisted the handle next to them and the man screamed as his limbs were pulled tight. "Do you know who this is, So-chan?"

Silently, Calypso shook her head as she stared down at the unnamed man before her.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't," he mused as he tugged her closer to him, the blood making them stick together uncomfortably. "This filth here, So-chan, likes to watch young girls with lustful eyes—he liked to stare at you with lustful eyes."

"What?" Calypso spoke through numb lips, staring at the very much unremarkable man before her that she could have passed a dozen times in the street and never remembered him—the most successful monsters, Calypso suddenly remembered, were the ones that didn't look like monsters, the ones that looked just like everyone else.

"Yes," Akira hissed, protective and angry, "I saw him watching you, always watching when you go to sit in the park across the way. He watched with lustful eyes, So-chan—he's lucky I haven't plucked them out of his head yet."

"Please," the man croaked, pathetic and pleading, "please, I'm sorry! I wasn't going to touch her, I promise! I just wanted to look! Please! I wasn't going to do anything! I promise!"

He kept pleading, kept crying, and Calypso stared at him, anger curling in her stomach as she felt sick. He may have not touched her, but he had thought about it, he may have even planned on doing it before Akira stepped in—and what about other little girls? Had he touched them? Hurt them? To fuel his sick fantasies? It was people like this man, that made Calypso hate people, people like him made her sick.

"Akira?" she called softly.

"Yes, So-chan?" Akira asked eagerly.

"Shut him up," she told him, staring straight into the fearful eyes of the man—as unremarkable as his face. "His voice annoys me."

"Of course, So-chan," Akira told her happily, peeling himself off her back and moving towards his tools of torture. "I can't have my So-chan annoyed after all."

As Calypso stood there and watched as Akira bent over the man, blades in hand, and she ignored the scream that quickly turned to a gurgle as Akira removed his larynx with impressive skill and steady hands—the man wouldn't die, no, Akira wasn't done playing with him—she realised just how far she had come—how far she had fallen—and knew without a doubt that she was a Black and would always be a Black.

Her previous self would have been horrified, would call him—her, them—a monster, but Calypso didn't care.

Calypso wasn't a monster, she was a Black, and Blacks hunted monsters for sport.

* * *

 **AN: Yeah…. I have no idea where that last scene came from, I knew I wanted to end the chapter with a scene with Akira and it somehow turned into them bonding over the torture of a pervert. My mind kind of worries me sometimes, but oh well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter of the Black family, well, being the Black family—bloody, ruthless, cruel, and remorseless.**

 **I think I'm going to miss Akira after I end this fic, he really is one of my favourite OCs.**


	22. Chapter 22

It was the sound of her daughter vomiting that alerted Andromeda to the fact that something had happened when she was at work—something she will not be happy about, she already knew—and she rushed to the bathroom only to be confronted by the sight of Akira, bare-chested and covered in blood, hovering in the doorway.

"What did you do?" for a moment she almost sounded like Bella as she snarled out that question, brushing passed him and crouching down next to the kneeling form of her youngest daughter as she coughed and spit into the toilet.

"So-chan can't stomach torture yet," Akira almost sounded unconcerned, but the way he eyed the hunched back of Calypso told Andromeda that he was concerned in his own way—Torture? What the hell happened when she was at work?

"You tortured someone in front of my daughter?" she demanded, one hand soothing Calypso's back as she glared at her cousin. "My twelve-year-old daughter?"

"Yes," Akira answered, plainly and without shame, and Andromeda could easily throttle him in that moment, she decided as she cursed lowly and with great feeling.

"Bad words, Mum, bad words," Calypso coughed as she rested the side of her face against the seat of the toilet with a grimace and a wrinkled nose.

"Quiet you," Andromeda scolded without looking away from Akira, but her hand was gentle as it rubbed Calypso's shoulder soothingly. "What possessed you to torture someone in front of my twelve-year-old daughter?!"

"So-chan came in part way through," Akira absently rubbed at the smear of blood on his scarred cheek. "I think I forgot to renew the silencing charm—sorry about that."

"Sorry? You're sorry that you forgot to renew a silencing charm, but not for torturing someone in front of my daughter—my twelve-year-old daughter!" Andromeda had gone passed annoyance, she was straddling the line between angry and enraged.

"Yes," Akira nodded after a moment, a wrinkle of confusion appearing between his eyebrows as if he didn't—couldn't, she knew—understand why Andromeda was so upset.

Akira was a prime example of too much Black blood, Andromeda thought to herself, he had too much Wrath in him for him to ever function like a normal human being with morals and such.

(She supposed it spoke of how well Uncle Alexander and Aunt Ayame had raised him that he hadn't committed a massacre yet.)

"Why were you torturing someone?" she decided to ask, flushing the toilet since it seemed Calypso had already vomited everything in her stomach with some bile on top, and lifting her daughter up as she stood.

Calypso, faint and still feeling a bit sick, wavered as Andromeda forced her to the sink so she could brush her teeth and wash out her mouth.

Akira stilled at that question as his face twisted; "He was watching So-chan," Calypso flinched at her cousin's words, "he lusted after her, thought about touching her, taking her, hurting her—I just made sure he knew my displeasure before he died."

Andromeda stilled and her right hand twitched as she ached to hold her wand; "Is he dead?"

"Not yet," Akira told her, and Andromeda felt a dark smile curl at her lips.

"Good," she decided, it was only her right as Calypso's mother to express her own displeasure at the man who even thought about her twelve-year-old daughter like that.

"This family is insane," Calypso said after spitting out a mouthful of foamy toothpaste, "I had no chance really, I was always going to end up insane."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Akira pouted, looking disturbingly like a kicked puppy despite the blood that covered him like a second skin.

"It is when I end up with blood on t-shirt and my hair," Calypso glared at her cousin, her usual 'calm' restoring itself. "My hair," she repeated in great annoyance before popping her toothbrush back into her mouth to give it another fierce brush.

"Sorry," Akira pouted slightly. "I'll wear an apron next time."

"Good," Calypso nodded sharply before she returned her focus on brushing her teeth. "I'll shower when I'm done brushing."

"Good," Andromeda nodded before she turned on her heel and made her way towards the basement and the bastard who thought he could look at her daughter like that, who thought he could even touch her daughter.

* * *

Whatever peace Calypso had at Grimmauld Place was ruined with the arrival of her Weasley cousins.

"Caly!" two different male voices called before one weight smacked into her back, arms wrapping around her chest as he spun her right into his brother's path, he smacked into her chest and wrapped his arms around her waist in a practised and very unwanted move.

"Newt, Thomas," she greeted with gritted teeth and wasn't surprised when another weight attached itself to one of her legs—at least Theresa was quiet about it. "Theresa—why do you always do this?"

"Because we love you," Newt spoke up from just behind her ear and squeezed her tighter.

"Yeah," Thomas grinned up at her, "accept our love."

The thing was, she didn't want to accept their love. Akira showered her so-much love that he filled her tolerance of affection and love.

"I've had enough love from Akira," she told them.

"But that's not our love," Thomas pouted up at her, dark blue eyes fixed on her.

"Yeah," Newt added, "accept our love, accept our love—"

"Accept our love, accept our love—" Thomas gleefully followed alongside the chant.

"I don't want to," Calypso almost whined, feeling Theresa giggling as her brothers' chant reached a new level in volume.

"Accept our love, accept our love, accept our love—"

"Jared! Cynthia! Remove your monsters! Or I'll start removing their limbs!" Calypso shouted to the house at large.

"Accept our love, accept our love, accept our love—"

"Okay, you two," Jared's amused voice cut through the annoying chant. "You've had your fun."

Thomas—and no doubt, Newt—pouted as the chant came to an end—all without getting Calypso to accept their love at that.

"Don't you have some room picking and unpacking to do?" Jared asked with a smile that did nothing to hide the shadows in his eyes—he was aware of the reason behind their move, and it didn't look like he had come to terms with it just yet.

"I'm going to get a better room than you!" Newt shouted as he released her and began thundering towards the stairs.

"No, I am!" Thomas shouted as he followed his brother, both distracted from their original goal when it came to Calypso.

Which left just one, Calypso peered down, and Theresa peered upwards as she tightened her hold of Calypso.

"Theresa?" Jared called, tone gentle in a way it wasn't when it came to his sons because Theresa was his special daughter. "Don't you want to sort out your room?"

Theresa shook her head and the six-year-old clung to Calypso tighter at the suggestion she should let go of her cousin.

"She's fine," Calypso sighed, giving in and patting Theresa on her red curls. "At least this one knows the value of being quiet."

There was a crash from above that made them wince and two different yells drifted back at them; "He did it!"

Jared just stared up at the ceiling in dismay.

"Sucks to be you," Calypso told him as she picked up Theresa—she was really getting too big for this, Calypso grumbled mentally—and allowed her youngest cousin to wrap both her arms and legs around her, arms supporting Theresa's weight from under her bum and turned to the stairs herself.

Back to her bedroom, a place of relative safety, with her unexpected guest.

Theresa was easily distracted by the soft fur of Desdemona, and with only one doleful look, Desdemona allowed the child to stroke and cuddle her with some minor purrs to encourage the quiet little girl when she hit one of Desdemona's soft-spots with her gentle strokes.

Calypso simply lay next to them, already exhausted from the new company she'd have to live with and the lessons she had been given, and fell into a light doze on her bed.

She came out of her doze somewhat when she felt Theresa move to snuggle down with her and then drifted off into deeper sleep with Theresa cuddling into her side—Theresa was really her favourite Weasley, Calypso decided sleepily.

* * *

Calypso woke up to a blade to her throat and an unimpressed Kris staring down at her in the dawn light.

"I've been here for five minutes," Kris informed her in disappointment as Calypso made sure she didn't jerk in shock and impale her neck on Kris' short-sword. "I could have killed you a dozen times by now."

"I was asleep," Calypso hissed, conscious of the warm weight still cuddled into her side.

"An enemy won't care if you are asleep or not if they wanted to kill you," Kris informed her and Calypso bit back only an idiot would attempt to kill her in Grimmauld Place—Aunt Cassi's wards mixed with the wards of Orion Black, any enemy would be turned inside out or torn to pieces by them if they managed to get inside the front door. "Up you get, morning training."

"Yay," Calypso spoke in deadpan and Kris smirked down at her.

"Up," Kris informed as she pulled back the sword, and Calypso groaned as she rolled away from Theresa, who frowned in her sleep before snuggling down.

Calypso grumbled as she changed into her training clothes and picked up her own short-sword before she followed Kris down to the garden—her lessons sometimes really annoyed her.

* * *

No matter how much Harry just wanted to sleep, he didn't. Instead he grabbed a spare bit of parchment and scribbled a quick note and sent it off with Hedwig to Calypso.

The whole Sirius Black thing was more serious than he thought, he realised by the way the Minister acted, and he knew only one person that may know the truth of matter and wouldn't hesitate to tell him the whole truth no matter how terrible it could be, and that was Calypso.

He also remembered that Ron had called her Heiress Black, so it figured she would know about Sirius Black—at least he hoped she did.

With that done, he settled down to sleep and actually got to sleep in before a knock on the door announced Calypso's arrival.

"You blew up your aunt?" was the first thing Calypso said to him with a small delighted grin and Akira Black looming behind her.

"Did he blow her up as in explode or like a balloon?" Akira asked in curiosity as he shuffled in after Calypso.

"Balloon," Calypso told him, and Akira looked extremely disappointed as he slumped down in one of the seats in Harry's room—something that Harry shouldn't find funny, but still did. "So, what do you want?"

Harry scratched at his mess hair as Calypso perched herself on his bed—the bed he had been sleeping in moments ago—and resigned himself to have this conversion in his pyjamas.

"What can you tell me about Sirius Black?" he asked as he sat on the bed and leaned against the headboard.

"Do you want the official story or the truth?" Calypso immediately asked.

"What's the official story first?" Harry questioned with narrowed eyes and Calypso's mouth twisted.

"Sirius Black was the right hand of the Dark Monster, his top Death Eater, and spy on the light side. He was finally caught when he killed twelve muggles and one of his supposed friends, Peter Pettigrew, and the Ministry chucked him into Azkaban without hesitation," she told him, her mouth still twisted in distaste.

"And the truth?" he asked, and Calypso eyed him.

"This will be painful for you," she warned him seriously and waited for him to nod before she began—Calypso could be surprisingly kind when she wanted to. "Sirius Black grew up under a dominating, overly-critic, bitter and hateful mother, she pushed him to be the perfect heir of House Black and punished him when he used his own mind and said his own opinions—she took pureblood pride to the likes of Draco Malfoy, she hated muggle-borns and muggles, and tried to poison her own son against them all.

Unfortunately for her, and fortunately for Sirius, when he went to Hogwarts, he was Sorted into Gryffindor and not Slytherin like he was expected—it gave him a freedom he never had before—and he quickly made friends with dormmates—James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew—and they became quite the little gang of friends," she paused to gauge him, and he gestured her to continue. "James Potter was his best friend, a brother in all but blood, and when Sirius could not take his mother anymore, it was to James Potter that he ran to and it was the Potters that took him as one of their own.

When they graduated, Sirius took to fighting against Death Eaters with James Potter and his other friends by his side, he fought against family and the fate his mother had wanted for him—and he fought fiercely.

He was best man at James Potter's wedding, godfather to James Potter's only son, and was entrusted with a secret," she paused again.

"Secret?" Harry prompted her just above the blood-rushing through his ears.

"Of where the Potters were hiding from the Dark Monster, everyone knew that Sirius was only one that James would trust with his safety—so when the Potter were attacked, it seemed obvious that Sirius must of betrayed them," Calypso frowned, "because he was a Black, they named him a Death Eater, a spy, and didn't once question what could make Sirius Black tell anyone where James Potter, his brother, his family, lived, they didn't even think he could have been tortured—that he could have been forced. No, Sirius was a Black after all and that made him a Death Eater in the eyes of those he fought with and for, those he bled with and for."

It was very obvious that that pissed Calypso off, that they had just assumed Sirius was a Death Eater because of his last name and forgot about everything he had done for them and with them—it reminded Harry of Hogwarts, of the other students turning their backs of him because they _knew_ he was the Heir of Slytherin or some other nonsense—and he also knew if it wasn't Calypso telling him then Harry could have easily believed the worse of Sirius Black without a second-thought and that made him a bit sick, the man was his godfather.

"For some reason, Sirius had gone hunting across the country—some say he was looking for the Dark Monster, I think he was looking for the reason the Potters were dead, for the person that forced him to reveal the secret—when he was confronted by Peter Pettigrew," Calypso's eyes darkened, "Pettigrew was meant to be his friend, they had known each other since they were firsties, and as soon as Pettigrew came across him, he accused Sirius of betraying James and his family, of willingly betraying his friend, his family, and Sirius snapped—grief and fury are not a good mix for a Black—and he ended up killing Pettigrew and twelve muggles.

Overcome with grief, with the knowledge that he had just killed innocent people, that his mother would finally be proud of him, Sirius laughed so he wouldn't cry, and he was arrested and thrown in Azkaban without a trail because he said it was all his fault—a confession, they called it, they justified it."

Harry took several deep breathes and got his thoughts in order.

"You don't think he betrayed my parents?" he questioned after a moment and Calypso shook her head.

"Anyone who truly knew Sirius, would have known—should have known—that he could never betray James, could never endanger you," she told him firmly.

Harry looked at her, stared her straight in the eyes, and saw that Calypso had no doubt about Sirius Black. He may have killed people—accidentally—but he didn't betray his parents, and that was the most important thing to Harry—if that made Harry selfish, made Harry bad, then so be it.

"They think he's after you, Harry," Calypso told him, reaching out to hold his hand, "I may not know Sirius, I may not remember him, but my sister does, my mother does, and they all say he would only come after you to protect you, Harry. You are his godson, the only bit of James he has left, he would never harm you—twelve years in Azkaban may have addled his mind, but I'm certainty that that hasn't changed one bit," she smiled slightly at him, "my mum has all the letters he sent, you were always mentioned after you were born—would you like to read them?"

"Yes," Harry almost croaked out, "please."

"I'll go and get them then," Akira suddenly said making them jump as Harry had quite forgotten he was there, Akira gave him a wide smile and waggled his finger at them. "Now children, behave."

There was something odd about his tone that made Calypso blush and scowl as she glared up at him to Harry's confusion.

"Akira," she almost snarled and Akira laughed almost happily.

"I'll be back soon," he waved and left quickly.

* * *

 **AN: Here's a new chapter, I hope you enjoy it, and I hate my mind because I've been thinking about having Calypso reborn earlier in the Black family and as a Black in name and not just in nature—something that has made me hash out a new timeline, slightly different verse, and deal with the dreaded maths because some of the dates didn't make sense or weren't properly given, and yeah, that's a new annoyance I have faced because my brain is stupid and won't stop with the ideas about her as an earlier Black.**

 **It's meant to be focused on this story and then onto the Mass Effect one, not on another story as a Black…. yeah, sorry about that and the rant I just went in.**

 **Again, I hope you have enjoyed this chapter and please review and let me know.**


	23. Chapter 23

Calypso spent the rest of the day with Harry, allowing him to read the letters Sirius Black had written to her mother and his cousin without hurrying him or peering over his shoulder like Hermione would have done, no, instead Calypso dozed on his bed without a care and left Akira Black to watch over them—something that shouldn't be comforting, but somehow was—and allowed Harry read and come to terms with everything.

He read the letters filled with dark tidings of war, love for James Potter, affection for Lily Potter and prideful love of Harry himself. He read the boasts his godfather made about him— _"Harry's already a natural on the broom! He's going to be amazing at Quidditch!"_ —and little notes, slices of a life that Harry didn't remember—" _Lily gave us hell today, Harry almost ran over the cat with his broom,"_ —before the letters became shorter, tense— _"Dumbledore thinks someone's leaking secrets," "The Potters are going into hiding, they need to keep Harry safe—I'm going to draw the attention away from them," "Andi, please be careful, things are getting worse and I know you don't want to get involved, but I'm worried Bellatrix won't let you remain out of it much longer," "Lily's worried, she thinks something is going to go wrong. I can't let anything happen to them Andi, I won't,"—_ that told Harry all he needed to know about Sirius Black.

Sirius Black could never betray his parents, could have never betrayed James Potter, and yet for some reason everyone was convinced that he had—was it really because he was a Black? Was their reputation that bad?

"Calypso?" Harry finally called, and Calypso cracked open one dark eye to peer up at him sleepily. "Can you tell me about the Black family?"

"Vindictam suam ad plenissimam," Calypso yawned, "that sums us up really well."

"What?" Harry asked in confusion, and Calypso sighed as she levered herself up and began to explain the dark history of the family she was expected to lead, it was a story that explained much about Calypso, Harry would realise in hindsight.

* * *

Vindictam suam ad plenissimam—revenge at its fullest—was the motto of the Blacks since they were Romans and Calypso always thought that motto was fundamental meaning of being a Black.

She had no idea when they started sprouting 'Always Pure', but she was torn between blaming Phineas Nigellus Black or Walburga Black for that motto considering both were the most vocal about their dislike of muggles and muggle-borns—though Phineas Nigellus Black had an actual reason for disliking them considering his elder brother, Sirius I, was killed by muggles while Walburga Black seemed to be a hateful and bitter woman all round.

(There was a reason not even her father tried to argue that she hadn't drove her husband to death after all.)

She guessed it didn't really matter who started the 'Always Pure' nonsense—in French, French! Calypso only knew French because of Aunt Clementine! The Blacks had been Greek, then Roman and finally British, they had never been French—because the family were returning to their original motto.

It was a motto she could fully get behind and embrace, especially when she thought about Dora—Dora older but not that much older, pink hair faded, face lax and cheerful dark eyes closed in her final rest—and what was coming.

Blacks weren't kind, they weren't merciful, they claimed Ares as the forefather after all! They were known for the blood-lust, their domination of battle-fields and Wrath that burned them from the inside out, Calypso had been told this since she was young.

Since before she remembered her previous life and what was at stake—Dora older but not that much older ( _I'm running out of time_ ), vivid pink hair faded, and chest stilled forever—and it was something she would embrace, it would be a history and reputation she'd used to make sure it didn't happen—Dora, still and dead, cold and gone forever—because there was nothing Calypso wouldn't do for her family, she had decided that before she was four and when she asked Aunt Cassi to teach her to protect her family—protect Dora, stop her from going cold and still in death.

Calypso was ready to make some of her bloodiest ancestors proud to protect her family, she was ready to suffer nightmares and stain her hands in blood to protect her family because she was a Black and that meant something damn it!

And it was time for the world to remember that fact.

* * *

Harry stared up at the ceiling in thought, laying back of his bed.

"So, your family's history is filled with crazy murderers?" Harry asked in a blunt manner he normally associated with Ron or Calypso, and not himself.

"Pretty much," Calypso said from next to him, the shrug of her shoulders brushing against his showed her utter lack of care regarding that fact.

"No wonder everyone was ready to believe the worse of Sirius," he mused, and Calypso laughed slightly.

"We've never been considered a nice family," she told him in amusement. "There is a reason why people believe we descent from Ares."

"Is that even true?" he asked doubtfully, wondering if other pureblood families also claimed they were descendants from certain Gods or Goddess—if so, it explained Malfoy's unfounded arrogance.

"Did we really descent from Ares?" Calypso hummed. "That's hard to say, I can't say for certain that the Gods don't exist—there is many wonders and such in the world that hasn't been discovered yet—but many modern scholars have agrred that the Gods and Goddess from the old religions and such were actually really powerful witches and wizards that built up a following and was able to gain power through prays and such. So, do the Blacks actually descent from a powerful wizard named Ares that was so powerful and battle-happy that he was remembered as the God of War? Probably, was he the actual God of War of Ancient Greece? I don't know or really care."

"Huh," was all Harry could think to say to that. "Did the Potters claim a God as their forefather?"

"Belenus, a Celtic god that was closely connected with druids," she told him after a moment of thought. "God of healing, science, hot-springs, fire, success, prosperity, purification, crops, vegetation, fertility amongst over things—he is considered a sun and fire god, much like Apollo."

"How do you even know that?" he asked as he propped himself up on his elbows and peered down at her.

Calypso looked up at him lazily, an expression he only normally saw on her face during the weekends when Luna tugged her around Hogwarts.

"It was in the book I gave you," she gave him a look that was mildly judgemental, "you skipped all the history bits and focused on the modern Potters, didn't you?"

"There was a lot of stuff to read," he shrugged as he flopped back. "I thought I would focus on the important parts."

"Over a thousand years of history, and you thought you could focus on just the 'important' stuff?" she asked in disbelief. "Wow, just wow."

"Like you remember all of your family history," he accused, and she snorted.

"I know more than you," she informed them, "something that isn't hard I imagine—I bet even Ron knows more about his family history than you do and the Weasleys don't really care much on the past, preferring to look at the present and towards the future then the past. I grew up on the stories of our victories and failures—almost all of them featured blood and gore in some way."

"I didn't have older relatives to share such stories," he pointed out, and Calypso waved a hand in the air like that was irrelevant.

"The downside of being an orphan," she spoke with a bluntness and a casualness that people seemed to cringe away from when talking about his orphan status, something Harry knew would make Hermione gasp in dismay as if Harry was something delicate that was going to break at the single mention his glaring lack of parents—something that honestly confused Harry as he knew he was an orphan basically all his life. "But it took me, a ickle firstie, to find out about your family history—you didn't even look."

"You sounded just like the twins," he informed her instead of admitting that she was right, and making her push at his shoulder in offended annoyance.

"I did not," she argued, puffing up like offended cat in Harry's opinion—something Harry wasn't stupid enough to say out-loud as he was well aware of Calypso's dislike of cats.

"Ickle firstie is something the twins would say," he argued back, fighting a grin when she scowled at him. "You must have picked it up when they were having fun with their ickle Tonksie."

Calypso made an annoyed scoffing sound and pushed his shoulder harder.

"Don't call me that," she whined, and Harry grinned openly at her.

"Ickle Tonksie, huh?" Akira's sudden voice made them both jump because they had forgotten he was there—again—he was very quiet when he wasn't interacting with Calypso, Harry noticed. "Not as good as So-chan."

"Don't be so quiet!" Calypso snapped, glaring at her cousin who just smiled back at her happily.

"But I didn't want to interrupt you two," Akira Black blinked innocently at his cousin. "You were having so much fun together that I didn't want to ruin it."

"You're annoying," Calypso huffed.

"I love you too," Akira Black basically sung to her making Calypso scowl.

It was dusk when the cousins finally took their leave of him with Sirius Black's letters in tow.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy nee Black loved her husband, she did even if Andromeda believed—perhaps truthfully—that Lucius had only courted her to get another foothold in the House of Black while the Lestrange's whispered sweet poison into Bellatrix's ear.

Since the age of eleven, Lucius Malfoy had been the only boy—turned man—for her. How could he not be? When he was the only boy that paid attention to the youngest Black sister who had inherited none of the Black features or magics? Who was fair of haired and eyes instead of dark locks and dark eyes like her sisters? Whose appearance was commented on by every snide and bitter woman that failed to marry into the Black family and implied that her mother, that Druella Black nee Rosier, had strayed? It had been Father that strayed, not Mother, never Mother.

(In hindsight, Narcissa realised she had been played and it burnt that it didn't make her love for Lucius lessen—how weak had that love made her?)

Narcissa had married for duty—like Bellatrix, but not like Andromeda—and she married for love—not like Bellatrix, but like Andromeda—and she considered her married life to be a happy one—even though it was marred from miscarriages and stillborn infants until her precious Draco.

But when it came between Lucius and Draco, between her husband and her only child? Well, there was no real choice.

Draco was her son, her precious child, the only one of her children that didn't die in her womb or as they came into the world. There was nothing Narcissa wouldn't do for her son, nothing she wouldn't give for her son—she had sworn that when he was just a small fair infant as she counted each and every precious breath he took in his sleep, she swore that when she held him and felt his comforting weight and warmth in her arms that had ached for a child for so long.

So, she would throw herself before her Maiden House, before her sister's youngest daughter, and beg for her son's life, for him to be spared and not blamed for his father's stupidity. She would promise them anything if it meant Draco remained safe, if he lived through the war that the Blacks had declared.

* * *

Before she knew, September 1st was upon them and it was time to return to Hogwarts—hopefully minus another teacher like Lockhart—and Calypso was secretly glad as it meant she wouldn't risk waking up with a blade at her throat and Kris staring down at her, or being woken up by Victor teaching someone to shoot a gun too damn early in the morning, or having Dora drag her out of bed and down into the garden so she could shoot spells at her and berate her while doing so or having Akira suddenly decide she should know just what certain Dark spells and curses did on a horribly life-like mannequin—something she had not surprised to find out he had charmed himself, only Akira would charm a mannequin so that it screamed and bled when hit with Dark spells and curses.

Luna Lovegood was thankfully there when Calypso's parents dropped her off, she had taken one look at Calypso before she smiled gently.

"Tough summer?" Luna asked in sympathy as she reached out and locked her pale fingers around Calypso's wrist in a move that made Calypso relax for some reason.

"You have no idea," Calypso told her best friend with great feeling, Desdemona greeting Luna with a welcoming meow from her place wrapped around Calypso's neck—because that was a thing now for some reason that Calypso decided she just didn't care enough to find out.

"I'm glad you two have decided to be friends now," Luna told her as she reached out and smoothed Desdemona's face.

"Yeah, dead things are perfect for bonding it seems," Calypso said, and Luna laughed lightly, taking Calypso in-stride in a way that was endearingly Luna.

"Come on, I saw Harry and the others broad the train earlier," Luna told her as she tugged at Calypso's wrist. "Harry promised to save us seats in their compartment."

* * *

 **AN: Short chapter, I hope you like it and please review.**

 **I'm still too interested into exploring Calypso as an earlier Black—as in Lord Arcturus Era—and my mind is still wandering without my permission as I think up things and such—silly really, but I can't help myself, sorry about that.**

 **Again, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please review.**


	24. Chapter 24

The compartment that the others had chosen was mostly filled; Hermione was sat with a large and squashed face orange cat on her lap which she was happily cooing at while Ron had pushed himself against the window and was covering the bulging front pocket of his shirt, a glare fixed on the cat as he muttered darkly to himself with his sister, Ginny, sat beside him and looking cautiously amused by his mutters—Calypso hadn't expected to see the youngest Weasley, but found herself almost pleased she was there—and acting as a protective barrier for him.

Neville was studiously ignoring everything as he sat beside Ginny and read a book—a Defence book, Calypso noted in some surprise and not the Herbology book she had been expecting—and Harry turned away from the unexpected guest to their compartment to greet them—he looked healthier, Calypso was pleased to note, something she hadn't taken note of when she last saw him and knew Dobby was taking his job seriously.

Luna returned the greeting happily and Calypso distantly as she stared at the grown man that was huddled against the window and looking dead-to-the-world.

For some reason that Calypso didn't yet understand, her right hand fisted angrily and with a desire to hit him right in his weary and scarred face as intense dislike filled her at the sight of him. Whoever the man was, Calypso really didn't like him, and she had no idea why.

Luna pushed her into the seat next to Harry and then sat beside her, forming a barrier between Calypso and the stranger as she did which Calypso was grateful for—she didn't like sitting next to strangers at the best of times, she really didn't want to sit beside him—and Desdemona slid from her neck and curled herself tightly on Calypso's lap while keeping intent amber eyes on the other cat in their compartment.

"Who is he?" Calypso asked, tone sharp in dislike that made Harry glance at her in some surprise.

"Mister R J Lupin—I think he's our new Defence Professor," Hermione spoke up absently, so besotted with the cat on her lap that she didn't seem to even notice Calypso's tone.

Calypso stilled instead of snapping her head towards him as she wanted, and her hands balled into fists as his name bounced around her mind, her nails dug into the soft flesh of her palm.

R J Lupin, Remus Lupin, once best friend of Cousin Sirius, a man that didn't try to defend him and a man that didn't try to contact his other dead best friend's only son.

Remus Lupin who her Dora would fall in love with, Remus Lupin that would marry her Dora and impregnate her before attempting to leave her like a coward, Calypso suddenly remembered, and she seethed, Remus Lupin who Dora would leave behind her son for and wade into battle with, Remus Lupin who Dora would die with and for.

"Calypso?" Harry touched her hand in concern.

"I don't like him," Calypso told him firmly, bluntly and with great feeling. "I don't like him at all."

"He's our Professor," Hermione gasped appalled, breaking away from her cat induced happiness. "You don't even know him."

"I don't want to know him," Calypso declared with a sniff, turning her face way stubbornly—she didn't want to know the man that would help cause her sister's death.

"Calypso," Hermione admonished, worrying her bottom lip as she glanced between the still sleeping Lupin and Calypso.

"Leave it, Hermione," Neville spoke up, peering over his book at his cousin. "Sometimes Caly doesn't like people—the family is always amazed when she likes anyone."

"I see," Hermione said though it was clear she didn't, and she still wanted to defend Lupin despite not knowing him.

"Do you want to move compartments?" Harry asked, and Calypso wanted to say yes, but found herself biting her tongue—something bad was going to happen on the train, Calypso remembered vaguely, and it would be safer for Lupin to stay with them.

"I'm fine," she told him and smoothed Desdemona's fur. "How did Dobby take your run-away?"

Harry groaned as he leaned back in his seat; "He was a wreck, he wouldn't stop apologising for taking the day off and not being there for me."

"I know," Calypso spoke wryly, "he woke me up that night and kept sobbing about failing the 'Great Harry Potter sir' and 'Miss Caly'—he also attempted to brain himself with my newest skeleton, I wasn't impressed."

"Skeleton?" Harry asked in confusion and Calypso realised she hadn't mentioned her new hobby to anyone but Luna and Neville.

"Ah, yeah," she almost felt awkward as she smoothed her hand down Desdemona's back, "Desdemona was trying to freak me out with dead small animals in my room, so I decided to connect and display the skeletons? It turns out, dead things are great bonding items."

"You are so weird," Ron blurted out, staring at her almost horrified and she scowled.

"I'm a Black," she sniffed making Ron nod after a moment in understanding.

"Bloody mental, the whole family," he said almost sagely.

"Ron!" Hermione almost shrieked, dismayed that he would say that about one of their friends.

"What?" Ron asked defensibly. "What family do you think Sirius Black came from? And displaying the bones of dead animals is weird!"

"Ron!" Hermione chided, glancing at Harry worriedly like he was about to announce his plans to hunt down Sirius Black at the very mention of him.

"I think Sirius Black isn't after me," Harry declared defiantly.

"Harry," Hermione said softly as she looked at him even more worriedly.

"Sirius is Harry's godfather," Calypso spoke up, "and he loved Harry more than anything, twelve years aren't going to change that, and no matter how addled he may be, I doubt my cousin would hurt him."

"But isn't he a Death Eater?" Ron asked doubtfully as Hermione gave up on them all.

"Sirius is not nor has he ever been a Death Eater," Calypso told him fiercely. "Only someone who didn't know him, judged him by his last name or was a complete fool would ever believe that Sirius was a Death Eater—Death Eaters killed his brother and he swore he'd kill them all for that, he fought for Dumbledore and beside your uncles. Sirius is as much a Death Eater as I am."

There was a silence in the compartment as Calypso glared around at everyone, daring them to make another remark against her cousin, and was interrupted by the yearly visit of Malfoy.

"Potter—" Draco cut himself off when he caught sight of his cousin and his lips thinned—it was obvious he hadn't been expecting to run into her so soon.

"Cousin," Calypso greeted, deciding to give him a life-raft.

Draco was hateful, Draco was a bully and he was racist and a blood purist, but he was also her cousin, her immediate cousin, and he was barely a year older than her. Draco Malfoy was a little boy sprouting the ideas of his father and those around him, he wasn't a Death Eater and it wasn't fair to treat him like one.

There would be no mercy for his father, but perhaps Draco could be saved—and if he couldn't? Well, Akira had no problem with removing problems for her.

"Cousin," Draco greeted stiffly, a muscle twitching in his cheek as he nodded at her before he gave a sneer to the compartment at large and left.

"What was that?" Ron asked making Hermione roll her eyes—she gave up on him, really, she did.

"Family business," it was Neville that said that, eyes focused on Calypso.

He knew, Calypso was almost surprised to note, and she wondered how he had found out about the Blacks declaration of war.

"Yes," Calypso agreed evenly, "family business."

* * *

Calypso had always been sensitive to the cold, there was a reason Calypso's wardrobe contained more jumpers than anything else.

It didn't surprise her when she was the first to shiver after the train suddenly stopped and ice began to spread across the glass of their window.

"People are boarding the train," Ron said as he peered out of the icy window, sounding uneasy.

"I don't think their people," Luna said as she reached out and gripped Calypso's hand, hard.

"Of course, their people," Hermione scoffed, and Calypso glared just before the train was plunged into darkness.

"What's going on?" Ginny's voice was high with unease and fear.

"I don't know," Hermione's voice was the same and her cat, Crookshanks, made a low groaning sound as if Hermione was hugging him to tight.

"Quiet," a hoarse voice said harshly before there was a cackle of flames and Lupin's face were lit up by the blue flames in his cupped hands.

"What's happening?" Harry demanded as Calypso shivered as the cold kept creeping through the train.

"Azkaban's guards," Lupin said shortly as he stood in the middle of the compartment.

"Fuck," Calypso hissed out, appalled that someone would be stupid enough to send Dementors onto a school train filled with children.

"Calypso!" Hermione scolded automatically before falling silent as a figure stopped outside of their door and the door opened slowly.

Calypso had never seen a Dementor outside of a book and she wished she didn't have to see it, the hand that it quickly retreated under its cloak was thin and grey and awful.

"Sirius Black is not here," Lupin stated almost calmly, but mostly firmly.

The Dementor ignored him and took a deep rattling breath and Calypso cried out.

Dora, pink hair faded, pale face lax, dark eyes closed forever, the ceiling rumbling as it came crushing down upon her, pain causing her scream to echo in the tunnel, warm blood splattering her face and covering her hands, Dora still and not breathing, she's dead, a hissing scream tearing out a throat without vocal-cords, she's dead, Luna afraid and sobbing, she's dead, Neville scared and nervous, warm blood sticking to her hands and under her nails, she's dead, Luna afraid and whispering in the dark, Harry covered in blood, she's dead, the ceiling falling, she's dead, Harry walking away to fight a Basilisk, she's dead, pink hair faded, Harry covered in blood, dark eyes closed, her own pained screaming echoing in her ears, she's dead, blood hot and stinking across her face, a man bloody and broken as Akira smiled at her, she's dead, Harry limping toward her with blood and filth all over him, she's dead, screaming, her scream, his scream, copper and iron stuck in her nose, she's dead, Harry covered in blood, Luna afraid, she's dead, life leaking out because of her, the ceiling crashing down, Neville afraid, she's dead, blood stuck under her nails, she's dead, Harry covered in blood, she's dead, blood, so much blood, she's dead, Harry still in Hagrid's arms, older but not that much, she's dead, he's dead, they're dead, dead, dead, dead, and it's all her fault!

"Calypso!"

Calypso gasped as if she was coming up from water, shuddering and shivering as she blinked foggy eyes, tears streaming down her face.

Blood, tarlike and black, was splattered across her and it was cold—so cold—and her hands was clasped around her dagger—Kris had charmed it with a Notice-Me-Not charm before she left—and it was stuck in a grey and bloody mess that Calypso believed was once a Dementor's skull.

She retched, leaning over and vomiting next the corpse she made out of a Dementor, and Luna's cool fingers pulled back her hair as she heaved and spit.

Neville knelt on the other side of her, grimacing as he pried her fingers from her dagger and slowly placed it on the floor.

"You're okay," Luna whispered to her, "they're gone."

Lupin, Calypso dazedly realised, was stood just behind her and he vanished her vomit and the blood covering her school uniform.

Without the worry of blood or vomit, Luna tugged her down and into her arms and Neville rubbed her back with warm hands.

"Back to your compartments," Lupin ordered sharply and whispered echoed down to her as doors were grudgingly closed.

"Miss Tonks?" Lupin knelt down next to them, scarred face kind but pale green eyes intent. "Are you okay?"

"Dead," Calypso spoke from behind numb lips.

"Yes," Lupin agreed with a grimace, "it is very much dead."

Not the Dementor, she wanted to correct him, Dora and Harry were dead, she saw them dead.

"Harry…" she trailed off, he was dead.

"I'm here," Harry called out impossibly and Calypso struggled out one hand from Luna's hold, reaching and hoping, and Harry didn't even hesitate, didn't even pause and consider her hands had just been covered in black blood, as he clasped his hand around hers, warm and alive.

Calypso burst into loud and noisy tears that Luna attempted to muffle as she hugged her close, pulling her further way from the Dementor.

"Can't you get rid of it?" Neville almost hissed, hands soothingly warm on her back.

"Unfortunately," Lupin spoke up with regret, "this will have to be documented."

"At least can you get it away from her, Professor?" Hermione's voice wavered as she spoke up, Lupin didn't reply but tension seemed to leak out of her friends after a moment and Hermione's voice was relieved when she continued, "thank you."

"Here," Lupin said as something snapped, "eat this, it'll make you feel better."

"Chocolate?" Hermione questioned doubtfully as Luna pressed a square to Calypso's trembling lips.

Still crying, Calypso quickly ate it before she could choke on both her tears and chocolate.

"Trust me," Lupin implored her, probably with a smile.

"I want Dora," Calypso whimpered, Harry was alive—his warm had in hers reassured her of that—but what about Dora? What about her sister?

"I'll owl Hogwarts," Lupin told them, "I'll see if they can contact your—Dora, was it? —your Dora."

"Please," she told him, ignoring her dislike of him and the very real want of keeping him away from Dora. "Demon?"

"Demon?" Ron questioned in confusion.

"She means her cat," Neville quickly explained. "Caly used to call her a demon-cat."

Soon enough Desdemona was passed over to her and Calypso hugged her close with one arm, still in the protective and comforting hold of Luna.

"Perhaps you should all move and place yourselves comfortably in the compartment?" Lupin suggested, but Calypso ignored him and so the others ignored him too. "Right, I'll go and send that owl then."

He sounded amused more than annoyed before he left them.

"I hate Dementors," Calypso told them, hiccupping through her tears.

"Me too," Harry told her and squeezed her hand.

* * *

 **AN: Yeah, and so this is Calypso's long-awaited reaction to Dementors. I hoped it lived up to all your dark hopes—and if not, sorry but this is what I wrote. Please review and let me know what you think.**

 **I'm already bouncing around ideas of my next Black self-insert—it will be replacing Mass Effect as her second life—and there will be differences between Tonks world and the Black world of Harry Potter, how many differences? I don't know.**

 **Again, please view and let me know your thoughts.**


	25. Chapter 25

Minerva McGonagall closed her eyes tightly and counted backwards from ten, it was too early in the year to deal with things like this, Minerva decided.

She opened her eyes and reread the quick and lengthy note that Remus Lupin—she was very proud of her ex-student—had sent her, her lips thinned as she read about the Dementors boarding the train—something that Albus had told the Minister in no-uncertain terms was not happening—of them then opening the compartments of the students and terrorising them before a lone Dementor came to the compartment Remus was in with several students—Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood and Calypso Tonks, it seemed, something that did not surprise her—and made the mistake of using its fear-inducing power on the second-and-third years.

It wasn't even that much of a surprise that more than one of those children had a bad reaction to them, it was surprising how violently Calypso Tonks reacted to the threat and fear—killing a Dementor, it was almost unheard of—and it was unsurprising how she reacted in the aftermath—Minerva could still see eleven-year-old Calypso Tonks sat in the middle of the corridor and crying as she stared at the still-form of Justin Finch-Fletchley—and she grimaced at the request she had asked of Remus.

She wanted her sister, it wasn't surprising, and was the cause of Minerva's blooming headache.

Nymphadora Tonks would not hesitate to come, Minerva knew that, and she also knew that the elder Tonks wouldn't come alone—they were going to invaded by the Blacks, she realised.

Minerva sighed, thinking wistful of the bottle of scotch she had hidden in her room, before handing the letter to a curious Filius.

His lips thinned, his eyes narrowed in fury as he read.

"I'll Floo her family then," Filius told her after a moment, carefully folding the note and handing it back to Minerva. "And the aurors."

Her short colleague turned sharply on his heel and made his way to his office, Minerva didn't envy him one bit as he would have to deal with concerned and angry Blacks.

Minerva straightened her shoulders and made her way towards the Great Hall—Albus needed to be made aware of recent events.

Briefly, Minerva hoped that he would allow her to sit in on the meeting he would no doubt be having with the Minister—she had a few words for the fool that she would like to share.

* * *

It took quite a bit of time before Calypso could be convinced to move from her position on the floor, but she refused to let go of Harry's hand, she held on for dear life as if he was going to disappear if she let go.

Hermione attempted to appeal to Calypso's logic—reminding her that the Dementors were gone, that she had killed it, and there was no reason to hold on to Harry because he wasn't going anywhere—under the growing harsh gaze of Luna until Harry finally silenced his best friend with a firm look—sometimes, Harry thought, Hermione was as insensitive as Ron—and Neville's equally firm 'Hermione, enough,'.

She sat beside Harry, one hand gripping his tightly while she held Desdemona in her other arm, and Luna sat on her other side, a comforting hand on Calypso's knee as she began to gently and dreamily talk about the latest issue of the Quibblier—Hermione's snort of distain was firmly ignored.

Neville had crouched himself in front of his cousin, keeping his balance when the train began to move, and mopped up her tears with his hanky as she began to regulate her breathing almost forcefully.

"Do you want some more chocolate?" Ron offered, only looking slightly awkward as he held out the last chocolate frog from the collection Harry had purchased for them earlier.

Calypso, sniffling and teary, nodded in a subdued manner that Harry found himself disliking greatly as Ron handed the opened frog to Neville who fed Calypso the chocolate as she still refused to let go of either Harry or Desdemona—it was almost odd for her to hold Desdemona for comfort when Harry could remember her telling him how much they disliked each other.

Calypso may be quiet—when she wasn't annoyed by stupidity and such—but she had never really been subdued in all the time Harry knew her.

Calypso was blunt and honest words, fearless when it came to other people's opinions. She was protective—sometimes to a violent degree—and curious enough to walk straight into danger without a second thought that she would then regret but was too stubborn to leave.

She wasn't loud sobs, choked hiccups and subdued nods in Harry opinion, and if he didn't like Dementors enough already—a woman's scream echoed in his head, desperate and pleading, painfully familiar and horrible—then he downright hated them for making Calypso react like this.

* * *

Remus Lupin hesitated outside the door of the compartment, steeling himself for what was coming, and opening the door with a kind smile.

Lily's green eyes shot straight to him, gaze wary in a way that made his heart clench, and James' face was set in a frown—a frown that would have looked out of place on James' face, but seemed to suit Harry's. Harry, Remus decided, would not be good for his heart or his mental health—he looked too much like his parents.

His gaze skipped away from the son of his dead friends, away from Neville with Alice's kind round face and Frank's eyes, and to the subdued form of Calypso Tonks.

She looked like her mother, Remus noticed, she looked like a Black, she looked like Sirius, and Remus felt some relief that her eyes were the same dark shade the norm for her family, the same dark shade of her mother's eyes, and not the grey eyes that set Sirius apart from his brother and cousins.

"I really shouldn't be giving you this back," Remus told her as she looked up with teary eyes which caused his mind to flash back to when they caught Sirius crying after another vitriol-filled letter from his mother in their first-year—and reached out his hand with her dagger—clean from Dementor blood—in his palm and its hilt pointed to her.

For a moment, Calypso just stared at it and then slowly, oh-so-slowly, she relaxed the grip she had on her cat—Siri-Black would be horrified, Remus surprised himself by thinking almost fondly—and reached for the dagger as the blue-furred cat climbed up and wrapped itself around her neck like a living scarf.

"He's not a Death Eater," she told him quietly, firm despite her hoarse voice, and took the dagger back.

Remus swallowed harshly, smile slipping, and Calypso looked up at him with all the defiance of Sirius Black despite her pale face, red nose and eyes, and tears slipping down her face.

"He's not a Death Eater," she repeated louder, her grip tightening around the hilt, "he was your friend and he never deserved to be surrounded by those monsters."

Remus stared at her, speechless and hurting—it seemed that Calypso would be worse for his heart and mental well-being.

"He's not going back there," she declared with strength as she slipped the dagger back into the sheath attached to her skirt. "I won't allow it."

"We won't allow it," Harry declared from next to her, hand tightening around hers—not as shaken as Calypso by the Dementor encounter, better composed, and just as firm in resolve—and Remus couldn't look at him, couldn't look at James' face firm in conviction, Lily's green eyes bright and fierce.

"Miss Tonks…." Remus trailed off with a sigh, he didn't know what to say. "He is a wanted criminal."

Her chin rose stubbornly, a trace of Sirius Black's arrogance filtered across her features.

"I'm a Black, Mr Lupin," she told him bluntly, "we've never concerned ourselves with petty things like laws."

He huffed out a laugh despite himself—he shouldn't be so amused, shouldn't feel a hint of relief at her words.

"No," he said ruefully as he shook his head, "I don't suppose you do."

Remus shouldn't have believed her, but he did—and he hoped, hoped dearly, that she was right, that Sirius had not betrayed them by becoming a Death Eater, that Sirius had not betrayed Lily and James willingly.

* * *

There was a group of red-robed aurors waiting for the train at Hogsmeade Station, something that caused a bit of a stir—not as much as the news that Calypso Tonks had killed a Dementor which had spread up-and-down the train like wild-fire—and they were given looks as students were herded to the carriages by a pinched-face Professor Sprout and the first-years were called over by Hagrid—poor little sods, they had to cross the Lake in the rain.

The platform had emptied quite a bit by the time Calypso and her friends stepped down from the train with Lupin at their side.

The startled squeaking screams from the Luggage Compartment informed those who had remained behind, despite Professor Sprout's efforts, that the House-elves had found where Lupin had banished the remains of the Dementor.

"Ah," Lupin said sheepishly, "perhaps I should have chosen a different place to store it."

Kris snorted as she peeled away from the rest of the aurors, they made their way towards the Luggage Compartment while Kris headed towards them.

"Look at you," Kris smirked at Calypso. "Dementor Killer, the family will be so proud—once they stop being furious."

She wrapped one arm around Calypso's neck and pulled her close, pressing a kiss on the top of her head.

"Good girl," Kris told her, "Vindictam suam ad plenissimam."

Yes, Calypso supposed her actions were fulfilling the Black's old motto—revenge at its fullest.

"I got work to do," Kris released her, "and I know I'm not the person you want right now."

"Caly," Dora called from further back, and Calypso immediately dropped Harry's hand and threw herself towards her sister—dislodging Desdemona, who leapt into Harry's startled arms.

Dora grabbed her, pulling her close and holding her tight as fresh tears prickled at Calypso's eyes.

Her sister was warm, breathing, she was alive and holding her, her hair was a vivid blue and her dark eyes were filled with worry.

"Dora," Calypso whimpered, holding her sister tighter and burying her face into the crook of Dora's neck.

Dora rocked her, shushing her tears and holding her as tight as possible, so tight that Calypso could feel Dora's heart-beat, something very reassuring.

* * *

Akira wasn't annoyed or even angry, he was enraged! And Jun-kun was stopping him from unleashing his rage on every bastard that was involved with Calypso's encounter with the Dementors.

"Get off me!" Akira shouted, voice muffled by the floor.

"And what? Allow you to turn the Ministry into a massacre?" Junior asked with a snort, rather comfortable despite the awkward position he got Akira pinned by the arms, legs and body. "The Blacks haven't caused a massacre since Aunt Cassi was away at war."

"They deserve it!" Akira attempted to trash in his cousins hold.

"Yes, yes, they do," Junior calmly agreed before shouting over his shoulder. "Where's the Calming Draught?"

"Do you know how many potions Cynthia's got stored?" Jared shouted back from Cynthia's lab.

"It's the blue one!" Junior grunted as Akira tried to buck him off before attempting to become an eel.

"There's a lot of blue ones!" Jared shouted, frustrated. "Unless you want me to accidently kill your cousin, you will hold him!"

"Don't tempt me," Junior grumbled as he forced Akira to remain still.

"So-chan would never forgive you!" Akira shouted at him, still fighting against him. "Just let me go! I'll only slaughter them a little!"

Junior snorted, amused despite himself.

"You don't have the self-restraint," Junior told his cousin bluntly.

* * *

Lord Arcturus Black swept through the atrium of the Ministry with purpose, ignoring the babbling idiot that sat at the security desk and towards the golden lifts.

"Level One," he snapped at the conductor-elf, who paled and did as he was told.

As the lift went up and paused at each level, the waiting wizards and witches would take one look at Arcturus' face and smartly take a step back to wait for the next lift.

"Level One, Minister for Magic and Support Staff," a cool and calm female voice intoned, and Arcturus stepped off the lift.

There were gasps, stares and even a startled squeak or two as Arcturus strode through the corridor and towards the Minister's office, ignoring all those that got in his way and they threw themselves out of his way, plastering themselves to the walls.

Arcturus didn't even bother to knock as he opened the Minister's office door.

"What is the meaning of this?" a rather toad-like and stout woman squawked as Minister Fudge paled behind his desk.

"Minister," Arcturus greeted him with a cold smile, "shall we discuss your attacks against my family?"

Arcturus strode in the room like he owned it, ignoring the woman that was puffing herself up in outrage.

"Lord Black," Fudge greeted quickly, sweat beading on his forehead. "What a surprise."

"Surprise, yes, that what I felt when I heard that Dementors had attacked my heiress while she was on her way to Hogwarts," he drawled as he almost prowled towards the desk. "Then, can you guess how I felt?"

Fudge's gulp was satisfying loud in Arcturus' opinion.

* * *

 **AN: Yeah, it's mostly a filter chapter, but I hope you like it all the same.**

 **A reviewer was worried I was going to kill Calypso off before I completed all seven years, I will state now that I have no intent of killing her off anytime soon and my intention is to do the whole seven years.**

 **I'm also know going to wow you with my imagination when I reveal Calypso's next name, drum roll please *insert drum noise*, she will be called Kallisto Black!**

 **Yeah, so review and tell me your thoughts please!**


	26. Chapter 26

It was amazing what a human could do when pushed to a state of primal fear mixed with the deadly Black Wrath, Calypso reflected as she forced herself to be content with Dora's hand in hers as Madame Pomfrey and Dad scanned her with their wands.

She wanted, desperately and childishly, to curl up with Dora, become a tangle of limbs as they cuddled close as Calypso could feel each reassuring breath and Dora's warmth chased way the chill that seemed to cling to her bones.

Calypso, instead, focused on rubbing her thumb against the silver ring that Dora wore on her left thumb, skin catching on the almost roughly etched runes for luck that Calypso had spent hours practising so she would get it right and had gifted to Dora when she was accepted into the Auror Programme.

There was no magic weaved into the metal or poured into the rune nor was it bathed in or painted with Liquid Luck, it was just a simple silver band with two etched symbols that was for luck as Aunt Cassi wasn't yet comfortable with allowing Calypso to power her runes and Cynthia didn't keep Liquid Luck on hand back then—Dora still insisted that the ring was her lucky-charm and swore it gave her good luck.

It was easier to push away the images—nightmares and her worse imagination torturing her with images, with visions of her potential failure, haunting her with unescapable knowledge of what loomed in Dora's future if she did nothing—that the Dementor induced with Dora's warm hand in hers and her side pressed tightly against hers, and remembering a nice memory of Dora that was real and not—pink hair faded, dark eyes closed, chest still, not that much older—nightmares that haunted Calypso since she was almost four-years-old and she remembered—sometimes she wished she had never remembered, but that was a foolish and selfish wish, if she hadn't remembered, remembered Harry Potter, that she wouldn't have been warned about Dora's death, she wouldn't be trying everything to change her fate, and Dora's death would still be her fault.

Calypso found herself feeling almost annoyingly grateful towards Lupin, he had kept his word and got her Dora and that had helped more than any chocolate her friends had pressed into her mouth—she still didn't like him, she reminded herself firmly.

"You need more chocolate," Madame Pomfrey decided after a moment, lips pursed unhappily, and Calypso idly wondered what a muggle doctor would think about Madame Pomfrey's order. "Otherwise, you are physically fine—it seems that the Dementor didn't fight back and its blood was in no way toxic."

"I'm surprised that none of the other Dementors tried to defend the fallen one," Ted sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair.

"They tried," Luna piped up from beside Calypso—she had ignored all the attempts from the Professors to make her go to the Great Hall with the others with a sharp smile and serene stubbornness that worked better than Harry and Ron's bullheadedness, Hermione's insist worry, Ginny's loud concern and Neville's anxious manner. "Professor Lupin shot some sort of silvery thing—a Patronus, I think—and forced them away and out of the train when they attempted to attack."

Dad had paled, Madame Pomfrey's lips thinned to a degree Calypso thought only Professor McGonagall could do, and Dora tensed and swore lowly—low enough that Mum didn't hear where she was talking furiously with Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Lupin.

"Well," Dad cleared his throat and put on a false jovial voice, "it seems with have to thank Professor Lupin more than we originally thought."

There was a pop and Dobby appeared with a large mug filled with hot chocolate and bobbing mini-marshmallows that he thrust towards Calypso, his new hat—a slightly misshapen red woollen thing that Calypso had knitted for him as September loomed closer—sat lopsided on his head.

"You be drinking it all, Miss Caly," Dobby told her sternly as Calypso took it with her left hand—she wasn't letting Dora go anytime soon.

"Dobby," Calypso began as she let the warmth seep into her hand and stared down at the bobbing marshmallows—only white ones, she noticed with a surge of fondness, as Calypso had never been fond of coloured marshmallows for some reason that amused and bemused Dora, who had happily scoffed down the coloured ones. "I would like you to give a message to Akira please, can you do that?"

"Yes, Miss Caly," Dobby nodded his head as Dad eyed her curiously and Madame Pomfrey made it a point to check Luna over, turning deaf ears to what was about to be discussed.

"Tell him, I would like him to hunt down and bring home a certain dog," Calypso decided, it was hopefully vague enough that no one should automatically think she meant Sirius and it was worded in a way that any Black would understand as Sirius was considered the Dog Star and the Blacks always knew at least the very basics of the stars they were often named after. "I've decided we are to return this dog to his home."

Dobby nodded firmly and disappeared with a pop—there, that would keep Akira busy and focused enough not to cause a massacre in Dora and Kris' place of work and hopefully stop whatever—no doubt foolish—plan Sirius' addled mind had come up with.

It would also save Sirius from recapture, when he was in the family's hands they wouldn't be allowing him to go off and be a foolish Gryffindor—he ended up in Azkaban the last time he did something utterly foolish and Gryffindor after all, Aunt Cassi had muttered more than once.

"Stop plotting and drink," Dora told her, and Calypso complied with the order by taking a sip from her mug, it send warmth pleasantly through her chilled body and was hot without being piping hot enough to burn her lips or tongue—in short, it was perfect.

Dobby, Calypso had decided long ago before she had ever met Kreacher, was always going to be her favourite House-elf and she almost regretted the fact she only employed him for Harry, almost as even the gods knew someone needed to keep an eye on Harry and make sure he was kept fed and healthy when he was away from the gentle—if sometimes terrifying—embrace of Hogwarts.

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt frowned down at the Dementor laid out in front of him and nudged it with the toe of his boot—it didn't even twitch.

"She really killed it, didn't see?" Kris Kowalski, his partner, asked him with a Black like grin and pride obvious in her voice.

"Yes," Kingsley replied, baffled by the evidences before him—Dementors were meant to be immortal. "What enchantments were on her dagger?"

"None," Kris said sounding almost too gleeful. "Muggle-forged iron and steel Damascus dirk—no magic involved in the forging, no enchantments placed on after purchase and completely muggle."

Which meant it was a legal blade, Kingsley finished in his mind, as though there was laws about enchanted blades, magically forged blades and magically modified blades—laws that certain families (the Black family) pointedly ignored most of the time—there was no law against a pure muggle blade—probably, Kingsley thought wryly, because most didn't think any witch or wizard would use something so simple and boringly muggle when they could have a magical blade or weapon.

"Iron?" Kingsley questioned, he didn't think muggles still used iron in their blades and had stopped mixing iron and steel centuries ago.

"Fairies can be annoying buggers," Kris told him simply as if that explained everything—it did, iron was poisonous to fairies, pixies and elves.

It was also more magically resistance than most metals, Kingsley recalled, and knew that was another reason Kris had probably insisted of a steel and iron mix.

"How old was she when you gave her the dirk?" Kingsley asked almost idly, crouching down to closer inspect the mess that had once been the gruesome face of a Dementor—the gaping hole that was loosely called a mouth was stretched wider than Kingsley thought was normal, it was if the Dementor had attempted to scream.

"Four," Kris shrugged, and Kingsley shook his head—only the Black family would consider daggers to be perfectly acceptable gifts for young children.

He counted at least twenty frantic stabs, breaking the surprising delicate bones and piercing through the grey brain of the Dementor—it was probably dead or dying after the first blow, he figured.

Every blow after that had probably been influenced by the other Dementors attempting to stop Calypso Tonks with their powers—something that only worked her more up into a state and lead to the spectacular mess the twelve-year-old had created out of the skull and brain of the Dementor.

They would need to talk to her though Kingsley doubted the girl was fully aware of herself when she attacked, and they would have to speak with Lupin about what he witnessed as he was the only adult witness to what happened—it had been a long time since Kingsley last saw Remus, he wasn't even aware the other man had returned to Wizarding Britain.

* * *

Remus was about to leave when he was stopped by a hand on his arm, he turned and was confronted by the vividly blue-haired Dora Tonks.

"You saved my sister's life," Dora stated, said sister was grumpily glaring at them from where she was sat with Luna Lovegood, Remus noticed with a twinge of amusement.

"I also failed to keep your sister safe in the first place," Remus pointed out, remembering the heart-stopping moment when Calypso threw herself at the Dementor, dagger in hand and dark eyes distant, and how shock had froze him for several precious moments and only the movement of the other Dementors broke him from his shock and forced him to move, to defend the children like he should have done from the start and failed to do.

"I'm not Akira," Dora shrugged, and Remus remembered the cheerful Hufflepuff several years ahead of him—he wondered just what that cheerful face hid to warrant that comment. "You saved her in the end and that is the most important thing, so thank you."

"I'm her Professor, it's my job to protect my students Miss Tonks," Remus pointed out almost awkwardly, and Dora wrinkled her nose.

"It's just Tonks thanks," she told him before adding. "You need to learn to take gratitude and possibly compliments too."

"I don't need gratitude for doing my job," Remus told her, and Tonks snorted.

"I get it," Tonks said with an enlightened look on her face. "You're shy."

"I'm not shy," Remus protested, he had been accused of many things, but he never been accused of being shy—timid? Yes. Weak-willed? Yes. A coward? Yes, but never shy.

"It's okay to be shy," Tonks told him, fighting a grin. "You don't have to be so defensive."

"I'm not defensive," he protested again.

"Sure, you're not," Tonks patted his shoulder, an almost sympathetic look on her face—it was false, Remus knew, he had seen the same expression of James and Black's face. "But seriously, shy guys can be quite cute."

Remus blushed despite himself making Tonks laugh lightly—and Calypso's glare deepened.

* * *

"I think your sister is flirting with our professor," Luna observed in mild interest.

"No, she's not!" Calypso protested, sounding appalled at the accusation that her sister would be flirting with Lupin. "She just thanking him."

"Does she normally make people blush so brightly when she thanks people?" Luna asked, and Calypso made a distressed sound.

"She's has better taste," she finally protested, and Luna blinked as she turned to her friend.

"What's wrong with Lupin?" Luna asked, interested to see just what Calypso would come up with.

"He's old," Calypso pointed out and Luna hummed slightly.

"Some women like older men," Luna retorted, wondering what else Calypso would come up with to justify why Dora could not possibly be flirting with Lupin.

"He's scarred," Calypso pointed out and Luna gave her a flat look.

"Your family has never been concerned by facial scars," Luna informed her bluntly, remembering Calypso's aunt, Cassi, and cousin, Akira, who both had very obvious facial scarring.

"I don't like him," Calypso finally huffed, and Luna patted her on the knee.

"She doesn't need your approval to begin a relationship with someone," Luna told her gently, and smiled when Calypso simply sulked.

* * *

 **AN: So, this is chapter is rather short, but I still hope you like it. I've been busy with my own fanfic reading and when I'm not doing that, I'm spending far too much time attempting to work at a functioning timeline for my Kallisto Black story—maths, how I hate thee. So I don't know just how long I will take between updates.  
**

 **I'm still not sure if I'm going with pairing Dora with Lupin, I'm in two minds about it and if I don't, I have no idea who I should pair Dora with if anyone.**

 **Anyway, please read, enjoy and review.**


	27. Chapter 27

Colin Creevey was saved from having a wand shoved in his face and a hex thrown at him by the timely reactions of Luna and Ginny—Luna gripped Calypso's right arm before she fully raised it and Ginny had gripped her friend by the collar and pulled him back sharply.

"What the hell, Colin?" Calypso demanded, blinking rapidly to remove the coloured dots in front of her eyes.

Colin grinned at her, fearless and undaunted in a way that only a Gryffindor could be, as he almost bounced on his toes as he held his camera close despite Ginny's hand still fisted around his collar.

"You're famous," Colin told her brightly, "it's in the Prophet that you killed a Dementor."

"So, you decided to assault me with your camera?" Calypso asked in disbelief.

"I wanted to get your picture before anyone else could," Colin informed her, "so I can say I was the first person to photograph the Dementor Slayer."

"Please tell me that they are not calling me the Dementor Slayer?" Calypso begged, looking at Ginny who shrugged.

"Sorry," Ginny said with a small smile of apology, and Calypso groaned, loud and miserable.

"It's too early for this," Calypso decided as she sheathed her wand, "I'm going to bed—wake me when I can go home."

Luna's strong grip on Calypso's arm stopped her from taking more than a step back towards the Ravenclaw Dorm.

"Don't be silly," Luna scolded, "we have breakfast—most important meal of the day to keep the Wrackspurts away."

"I'm already getting infected by Wrackspurts," Calypso told her as she reluctantly followed her friend towards the Great Hall.

"All the more reason for you to have breakfast," Luna declared airily, completely unconcerned by Calypso's dread.

* * *

All too soon for Calypso's liking, they had arrived at the Great Hall and was confronted by a stilted silence and curious and wary eyes which only annoyed Calypso.

"Yes, I killed a Dementor," she declared loudly and obviously annoyed in a way that actually made several students flinch, voice echoing in the Great Hall, "get over it."

With her piece said, Calypso decided to tug a quietly amused Luna over to the Ravenclaw table for breakfast as the Hall exploded back into sound—the Weasley twins could be heard chanting 'Dementor Slayer' and bowing towards an increasingly annoyed Calypso.

"They are demons," Calypso decided as she swiftly put together a couple simple bacon sandwiches and glared over at the twins—who saw her and blew her kisses mockingly. "Demons sent from Hell to torture me."

"Are they in alliance with Desdemona?" Luna asked idly as she cracked open her boiled egg.

"Desdemona has been turned away from the Dark Side," Calypso took a large bite out of one of her sandwiches. "There's no such hope when it comes to them—they have no souls."

"Even Nargles have souls," Luna disagreed as she dunked one of her soldiers into her runny yolk.

"They aren't Nargles, Luna," Calypso informed her, "they are demons, horrible demons."

"You say such nice things about us, Tonksie," a horribly familiar voice cooed in her ear. "Doesn't she, George?"

A grinning freckled face pressed against her cheek; "that she does, Fred, that she does."

It seemed the twins had slunk their way over to her when she was busy talking with Luna and her breakfast.

"Why?" Calypso moaned, leaning her head back so she could stare hopelessly at the ceiling and forcefully ignoring the twins that were rubbing their cheeks against hers in a cat-like manner. "What have I done to deserve this Hell?"

"Aww," Fred cooed, "we love you too, Tonksie."

"Accept our love," George whispered, echoing his younger second-cousins eerily.

Weasleys, the banes of her life, Calypso decided.

"Embrace the love," Fred added.

"Feel the love," George cooed.

"I don't want the love," Calypso told them making them pout at her, leaning over her shoulders as she hunched over her breakfast.

"But we love you," Fred protested, "you can't throw our love away."

"We won't let you," George declared, "will we Fred?"

"Of course not, George," Fred straightened up with a determined look. "We will make you see our love for you, Tonksie."

"And then maybe you'll show us your pretty colours?" George added hopefully, tugging on a loose strand of hair—they were still obsessed with her hair, she realised with annoyance and amusement, and she was glad she kept her Enchanted ring on to stop her Metamorph ability if this was the reaction she got.

Calypso shuddered in dread making the twins grin at her before they slunk away, still very cat-like.

"They weren't kidding, were they?" Calypso asked almost hopelessly.

"It may not be so bad," Luna suggested, and Calypso pushed her plate away, so she could face-plant the table which caused Luna to pat her softly on the head. "There, there."

Calypso let out another miserably moan—she knew she should have stayed in her bed this morning she just knew it.

* * *

They weren't kidding, Calypso had been horrified to learn soon enough.

After their declaration, the twins kept away from her for the rest of the day and though the sight of them with heads bent together gave Calypso a mini-heart-attack, she had been able to stupidly convince herself that they weren't going to do anything, that they had just be joking.

Breakfast the next day killed that foolish hope in the cradle as an owl with a bright obnoxious pink enveloped landed before her and dropped said envelope on her plate before taking off with a speed that told Calypso that owl had experience with the twins and knew when to get the hell out of dodge.

Calypso stared down at the envelope like it was a particularly venomous snake as it began to give of a pinkish mist in a way that reminded her of a Howler.

"I think you should open it," Luna told her, and Calypso stubbornly shook her head. "It'll probably be worst if you don't."

Before Calypso could claim it was already bad enough, the envelope burst open with a flurry of rose petals and glitter before two very familiar—and similar—voices began to loudly speak to her through the envelope.

"Dearest Tonksie,"

"Dark Mistress of our hearts,"

Calypso's eyes shut tightly as she felt every eye turn to her, feeling a blush take over her cheeks.

"Slayer of Dementors,"

"Destroyer of Stupidity,"

"Defender of Truth,"

She hunched in her sit and buried her face into her hands—so this was embarrassment, she acknowledged dimly, it was awful.

"Whose very beauty shines in violence—"

"Violence? This is meant to be showing how much we love her, not calling her violent,"

"But she is violent! It's part of her charm! Remember how she kicked Lockhart? Beautiful,"

"True, brother, true,"

"And she's a Black after all, they come alive in battle,"

"A very good point,"

"I know,"

"Ahem, beautiful Valkyrie,"

"Amazon of old,"

"How could we say how much we love you?"

"Truly, deeply and madly, we do,"

"From your dark curls,"

"To your pale toes,"

"We love you,"

"Please accept our love,"

"Do not cruelly reject us,"

"For we can not live without the sound of your voice,"

"The sight of your face,"

"The feel of your silky hair,"

"I'm going to kill the both of you!" Calypso snapped and almost roared as she surged to her feet, jabbing her wand at the offensive envelope and setting it of fire—something that only turned into glittery fireworks that burst around in her in various shades of pink and red—and glaring with a red face at the grinning twins.

"We love you too," they called teasingly, grin fixed on their faces.

"I'll give you love," she snarled and hurried her away around the Ravenclaw table.

The twins had never been called stupid and saw just how angry she was, so they did the smart thing—they ran like hell with Calypso pelting after them and shouting abuse to their retreating backs.

"Come and face me like men!" she shouted with a white-knuckled grip of her wand. "I'll only kill you a little!"

"Ron," Harry said slowly after Calypso's shouts began to fade, "you may want to let your mum know she'll be down two sons by the end of the year."

"They've got a death-wish," Ron agreed as he stared at the open doors that his elder twin brothers had runout of with Calypso fast on their heels. "I've never seen her that mad."

Up at the staff table, McGonagall and Flitwick was having a stare down.

"They are your lions," Flitwick pointed out.

"She's your eagle," McGonagall said drily.

"Divide and conquer?" Flitwick offered after a moment making McGonagall nod.

"I suppose we should save Misters Weasleys from Miss Tonks affections," McGonagall said with a hint of a smirk and Flitwick grinned slightly.

"Quite," he agreed.

* * *

The summer had been wisely used by the Black family to secure Grimmauld Place as their base of operations, September brought the family branching out to other family members.

Jared Weasley and Lysander Crouch was sent to the home of Septimus Weasley and Cedrella Weasley nee Black to court the Weasley family to their side, Junior began to feel out his Kowalski cousins across the pond and Cassiopeia began to write to her mother's family, the Bulstrodes.

Arcturus reached out to his late-wife's family, the Gamps, and to the Blishwick and Walkin family—his Great-Aunt Misapinoa had married into the Blishwick family and his Great-Great Aunt Alexia had married into the Walkin family.

Andromeda was giving the task of tracking down the various branch families scattered across the world though mostly focused in the colonies of Britain while Akira took a trip down to Knockturn Alley and contacted the Black bastards running the Lady Alexandra pub—founded by Phoebe Black in the memory of her mother, Alexandra Black nee Potter—and the Black Bodice—a brothel founded by her half-sister, Hesper Black.

Libra Blakesley, the Black Bodice's Madam and half-sister of Andromeda, had agreed to join them if only because it would piss off her 'father' if he heard one of his bastard daughters dared to join the family he had worked so hard to keep them away from—and she wasn't pleased by the way some of her Death Eater clients had treated her women and men in the past.

Herakles Blakesley—grandson of Phoebe's own bastard son—agreed to help and offered the spy network that Phoebe had set up in her life-time based in the Lady Alexandra that was still run today though monitored by Herakles' daughter, Lyra.

Hanako secured an alliance with the Kurosawa family in Japan—whose line can be traced back to include a Black squib that decided to try her luck in the Land of the Rising Sun and managed to secure a marriage with a well-respected Japanese man who was fascinated with her foreign beauty—by marrying the current Head's eldest grandson and was now expecting her first child.

* * *

If there was one wizarding family in the world that could claim to be its own army, it would the Weasley family as they had family scattered across the world that reached the hundreds in number.

In wizarding Britain alone, there was several branches of Weasleys; Septimus Weasley and his direct bloodline held Devon, in the Scotland there was the MacFusty-Weasley branch, there was an Irish Weasley branch under the leadership of Mark Weasley and the coast of Cornwall had several other Weasley families darted around it.

There were branches of the Weasley family across America, both North and South, a branch in Australia with a smaller branch in New Zealand, Japan had a rather new Branch and there were several families dotted over the rest of Asia, there was several dozen Weasley families dotted across Europe, a branch in India and at least three different branches spread across Africa.

Jared understood how valuable an alliance with his family could be to the Blacks in terms of number and skills, but it had been centuries since the Weasley family had put their all into a war or conflict and part of Jared balked at the thought of allying his family with the Black family in war—there was horror stories handed down through the generations of what the Blacks were like in war for a reason.

But it hadn't been any Black that declared war, and it wasn't a war declared because of petty things. Calypso, the little girl he watched grow up and who played with his children, had declared war and it was a war against Voldemort—how could he refuse to help to rid of that monster? How could any of his family refuse? How could they do nothing with proof that he would come back and attempt to rule Britain again with his Death Eaters? They couldn't, it wasn't in them.

So, Jared got used to living in the base of the Blacks, got used to their methods of preparing for war and finally seeing the Black side of his wife, and when Cassiopeia suggested going to his grandparents in hopes of an alliance? Jared agreed to go with his second-cousin, Lysander Crouch, and he would convince them.

The Weasley had never been nor would they ever be as bloody and warlike as the Blacks, but they weren't strangers to conflict, to war, and they had never turned away from doing what was right.

And this? This war? This would be the right thing to do.

* * *

 **AN: Short, I know, but my health is playing up—again—and its not helped by the fact I've got food poisoning, so I just wanted to get something out now just in case I don't do any more writing as I feel worse.**

 **The whole thing with the Twins? Yeah, I have no idea where that came from.**

 **Blakesley is the name given to all Black bastards, I've decided and declared it so.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy and please view and tell me your thoughts!**


	28. Chapter 28

"Sneaking around won't help when you reek of blood and Wrath," Lysander Crouch commented without looking up from her book. "What do you seek, Akira?"

"I need to find Sirius Black for So-chan," Akira leaned against her desk, towering over her seated form with his impressive height—not that it imitated Lysander, not much did.

"Blood-magic then," Lysander waved her wand and several books floated themselves neatly from the bookcases and stacked themselves on her desk in alphabetical order. "Try not to get any more blood on them."

"Blood calls to blood," Akira commented wryly as he glanced over the titles on the generously blood-stained leather-bound books, pausing on one. "Is this human skin?"

Lysander glanced over and nodded; "Yes, I believe that one was bound by Beatrix Blaec sometime in tenth century—she caught a man peeking on her whilst bathing and made him regret it."

"She kept him alive as she flayed him?" Akira asked, more than slightly impressed when Lysander nodded.

"It's apparently quite easy if you do it right and use the right spells," Lysander commented. "Muggles can even do it without spells."

"True," Akira hummed as he began thumbing through the first book, looking for the tracking spells and rituals.

Blood-magic would make his task much easier than normal tracking spells and rituals or manually attempting to track Sirius.

The best thing about blood-magic? It couldn't be blocked, Sirius could have found himself a wand and hid himself from normal tracking spells and rituals, but he couldn't hide his blood—at least not easily, painlessly, and not while on the run with the whole country looking for him.

Sirius hadn't made many—if any—friends amongst people that would hide him from the Ministry, he spat in the face of more than just the family after all. And despite his belief, his 'pranks' didn't just target future Death Eaters—Dark-magic didn't always mean Death Eaters after all—and he burnt the bridges between him and the Dark-neutral and plain neutral families in Hogwarts.

The Light and the Light-neutral families condemned him because of his name and would not lift a finger to help him; Sirius had effectively shot himself in the foot when it came to almost all the wizarding families.

Sirius, Akira mused, wouldn't be too impressed that the family he ran away from was the family that was willing to save him—though he'd probably have a good laugh when he found out that So-chan, half-blood daughter of a muggle-born and disowned Black daughter, would be the next Head of House Black.

* * *

Calypso Tonks was stubborn, it was something that could be a glaring weakness as well as a strength.

She had stubbornly kept her tears and nightmares to herself when she first remembered—when Dora's death seeped into her mind and gripped her heart in fear—and refused to mention the nightmares that made her wake in the middle of night with great heaving sobs and hands shaking as she hugged one of her soft-toys close to her chest and used it to muffle her sobs—Toothless was a favourite of hers, the warmth that Akira had charmed into the black dragon was soothing when she woke up shivering and sobbing in a cold sweat.

She had stubbornly kept studying Aunt Cassi's runes, ignoring how her head would throb, her eyes teared up and how it took several times before things made sense as her dyslexia played up—dyslexia she didn't tell her family about because she wasn't _stupid,_ and she had enough memories of the other her, the her of before, feeling stupid to last her lifetimes.

She had stubbornly stayed friends with Harry Potter—despite the fact part of her was still terrified by him, despite the fact she would sometimes look at him and see a future of war and suffering unfolding before her—if only because people suspected him and disapproved her fledging friendship with him—Blacks didn't do as they were told, or at least they weren't meant to, and they never bowed to the opinions of others, or at least they weren't meant to.

She had stubbornly gone to each training session with Kris during the summer, had pushed her body to its limits to keep up with Kris' strength and speed, she had stubbornly continued with Kris' bloody lessons—despite that fact she would wash and rub her hands almost raw afterwards as she tried to erase the blood from between the creases of her palm and the blood hardening under her nails, as she tried to forget the lax body of Kris' transfigured animals and the dead look in their dark eyes all because of her.

She had stubbornly kept fighting against Dora, holding her shield-charm as long as she could as Dora sent spell after curse after hex at her—she ignored how her body felt weak, how she would feel head-light when she used too much magic in one go, she ignored how it almost burnt when she reached for more magic than she had or could handle.

She had stubbornly gone back down to the Torture Chamber—the man that haunted her nightmares, the man that wanted to take her and touch her and hurt her, long gone—and she learnt to breathe through the stink of blood that almost hid the underlying smell of waste as Akira pointed out each of his 'toys' and what they could be used for as he held her gently to him—hands gentle, hiding the violence and strength that he could wield so easily if he so wished, but never against her, Calypso knew without a doubt.

Now, she was stubbornly ignoring the Weasley twins and their so-called love and affection;

She ignored the recurring Lovers—as some unimaginative fool decided to call the non-Howlers, the name sadly stuck—that they sent her every morning without fail and with a slightly different message.

She gritted her teeth whenever they conjured a cloud of petals to follow her around—seething quietly when Professor Snape banned her from Potions class before feeling quite pleased when Professor Snape took fifty points off the twins for interfering with another student's learning and another fifty points for unseemly displays of affection on top of the lecture that Professor McGonagall gave them which made them stop that particular show of 'affection' after the first time.

She only sent stinging hexes after them when they decided to suddenly hug her whenever they saw her—Professor Snape quietly gave her ten points whenever he caught her, Professor McGonagall only sighed when she saw her and only took a point from her for each hex she caught Calypso sending towards her lions, and Professor Flitwick pointedly ignored her whenever he passed by her raining stinging hexes down upon the yelping red-heads.

She refused to give in, she was a Black, she would become the Black when she came to her majority, and she wouldn't give in to those devilish demonic fiendish Weasley twins—she refused.

* * *

Remus Lupin was a nice man, Nymphadora Tonks would say easily and truthfully, he was nice and mild and unable to take a compliment, and his blush made her grin, but that didn't mean that she was interested in him in that way.

Perhaps in another life, Tonks would have been charmed by his niceness, his mildness, his obvious attempts to make himself harmless, but it was this life, and this Tonks, and she wasn't charmed.

Tonks was a Black—her mother's blood ran strongly through her veins and the veins of her sister—she had grown up surrounded by her Black cousins and she didn't understand why someone would purposely blunt their teeth and claws when she and her cousins were encouraged to sharpen their claws and teeth, to get them bloody and ready for war—a war that was coming sooner than they had thought, but they were preparing and they knew they would win.

And Tonks thought that Lupin would hesitate in love, would hold himself back and separate from her, and always looking for it to crash down around them—she didn't know why she thought that, but it was something she thought as soon as she saw him and briefly considered any thought of a romantic relationship with the elder man, something she completely dismissed during their talk.

Tonks wanted a love like her parents, like Cynthia found with Jared, like the quiet partnership of Ayame and Alexander.

(She wanted a fraction of the love that Akira freely felt and bestowed on Calypso, he had lost his heart to her the moment he first held her, hours after she was born, and Calypso simply yawned in his face when he had put his scarred features close to her pink and chubby face so her weak eyes could see his scarred mug in all its glory, and never shied away from showing it.)

She wanted a partnership, a love with someone that would love her as fiercely as she loved them, that would stand back to back to her and fight with bloody claws and teeth, she wanted someone that wasn't just nice, who could bite back as well as bark, and Remus Lupin would never be that someone.

That didn't mean, however, she was going to stop feigning an interest in him just to rile up her little sister because it was funny how annoyed Calypso was when she wrote back.

* * *

Blood calls to Blood, it wasn't just a saying in the magical world, it was a truth. With a single drop of blood, a witch or wizard could track the blood-donor no matter where they were or what wards they were under.

Akira didn't have any of Sirius' blood—nor did he have any hair or baby teeth—as wizards and witches were notoriously protective of their blood, of their hair, of any bodily materiel that could be used against them—which was everything really—but he didn't need Sirius' blood because they were family, they shared the same blood, and blood still calls to blood, and magic was all about intent underneath it all.

Instead of having maps filled with moving dots of blood that showed everyone holding Black blood in their veins, the enlarged and detailed map held only two dots of blood; one to show Calypso, to show him where Hogwarts was hidden, and the second to show Sirius, which showed him hiding around the wilds of Hogsmeade.

Sirius had returned to Hogwarts after all, Akira mused, he supposed even Fudge had to get lucky and be right occasionally—surprising though that was.

Akira supposed he best get his wayward cousin before he did something more foolish and upset his dear So-chan.

* * *

 **AN: So, yeah, very short chapter but I'm being struggling over this. My brain has also been exploding at the thought of her next life—how I'm going to change things so it's not exactly the same world, but still familiar to both Calypso/Kallisto and the reader without it feeling boring with the same old things—and chewing over changing the pairing again.**

 **I had decided to pair her with Harry, but then you kept saying Akira—something I had so not planned—and I could see it and then someone asked if Akira would be reborn into the next verse with Calypso/Kallisto and my mind exploded into ideas and thoughts and if I did go through that then I would have to scrap the Dragon Age story I had planned because it wouldn't work with Akira there, especially if I pair her with him and keep them together through a life-jumping adventure of blood and mayhem. And yeah, sorry about the rant, but my mind won't stop spinning and exploding with ideas and—yeah, going to stop now before it turns into another rant.**

 **Your thoughts and feelings would be very helpful to help me decide the course of this series of SI, so please, read and review. Sorry again for the short chapter.**

 **It also turns out I didn't have food poisoning, nope, I just got some nasty bug that has messed up my system and my doctor decided that I would have to work my own way through it as I'm too 'delicate' for most drugs that could help me.**


	29. Chapter 29

"I had forgotten just how large your husband's family was, cousin," Cassi admitted as she stared at the sea of red hair—in various shades from light strawberry blonde to bright ginger and then on to a dark auburn almost brown—in front her as the Weasley family members greeted each other in a typical boisterous manner that marked them as a Gryffindor family more than anything.

"I think sometimes even my husband forgets how large his family is," Cedrella Weasley nee Black mused beside her, calmly sipping her mug of tea as various voices shouted in various accents across the basement—though basement was not the right word for it, Cassi acknowledged—greeting family members they hadn't seen in months, years, or decades depending on where they lived.

The basement was a stronghold really, Cassi had lost count of the number of room suites that the Weasleys had built throughout the often-twisting corridors off from the large main room that doubled as a dining hall and meeting hall, there was also potions labs, store rooms, workshops, a large library with an impressive amount of books considering the Weasley's lack of wealth, and a truly massive kitchen that over a dozen Weasley wives and odd husband had taken over to feed the small nation that was the Weasley Clan.

None of the rooms were new, they were at least a century old, and Cassi almost thought it was funny that the Weasley's had kept a secret stronghold big enough to host all of them while the Blacks had given up any strongholds they once held.

Grandfather, Cassi knew, would be rolling in his grave and bellowing in his portrait if he knew the Weasleys had something like this when the warlike Blacks had to refit one of their homes to make into a war HQ in haste.

"They could conquer England if they wanted to," Cassi mused in mild awe as she watched the chaos—there was no one under the age of eighteen and there was few who were over the century mark, the Weasleys refused to send their children to war and many of their elderly members weren't so quick with the wand as they used to be so they remained behind to look after and protect the young, a wise decision that Cassi approved of—that somehow hadn't descended into pure madness.

"It's a good thing they are Gryffindors, isn't it?" Cedrella smiled at her cousin, proud of the family she had married into despite her parents and family's disapproval.

"How do they keep track of each other?" Cassi asked, her tone wondering.

"The Heads of the various Branches write to each other regularly, and the whole clan meets up every twenty years," Cedrella revealed, and Cassi nodded in understanding.

It was better than what the Blacks had done, they had almost completely splintered off into different families instead of different branches of one single family, and now Andromeda was stuck trying to find members that had some loyalty to their original House.

* * *

Narcissa had always been the good daughter, the dutiful daughter, the good wife, the dutiful wife.

Those had been titles assigned to her, words spoken in approval as she proved that she wasn't wild like Bellatrix—unhinged and damaged—or shameful like Andromeda—rebellious and in love. Her duties—perceived, imagined or real, Narcissa didn't always know—had been weighted chains that tried to drag her down and stopped her from flying forward towards her own ambitions.

She had done her duty as both daughter and wife, did what other people decided was her duty.

However, there was only one title that she chose, one title that she embraced and was fiercely proud of, and that was the title of mother.

A contest between the titles—the roles—assigned to her—forced upon her—and the title she assigned herself, had given herself? Like the contest between her husband and her son, there was only one simple choice.

Her son, her Draco, was the most important thing and person in her life, her title as mother was her greatest pride. For Draco, Narcissa would do anything.

She would ignore everything she believed, everything she was brought up to believe in, to protect her son, to save Draco from both her Maiden House and the Dark Lord, and she would not regret it for a moment.

She would ally herself to those lesser than her—blood-traitors, squibs and Weasleys of all people—and she would ignore her duty as pureblood wife—to stand by her husband through everything, to support all his endeavours—and ignore her duty as a good daughter—to respect the will of her father—she would do it all gracefully and without regret for her son.

Narcissa stalked through the doors of Gringotts, ignoring any that attempted to gain her attention, and strode up to an empty teller.

"I wish to see my sister's vault," she announced as she handed over the golden key that her eldest sister entrusted with her, ignoring Bella's voice in the back of her head.

' _Cissy! Cissy, you must make sure its protected! My Lord trusted me, he knew I was his most loyal, and I must make sure his treasure is safe for his return! He will know I was faithful! That I was true to him! Not like your cowardly husband, Gods' forbidden, Lucius have the backbone to stand up for his beliefs. You'll keep it safe, wouldn't you Cissy? For me? For your Bella?'_

 _I'm sorry Bella_ , Narcissa inwardly thought as she followed a goblin to the carts with clangers in hand, _but I love Draco more than I have ever loved you._

* * *

Calypso Tonks knew what type of person she was, and if anyone asked, Calypso would honestly tell them that she wasn't a good person—Calypso considered herself a relatively honest person, she never stated an outright lie though lying by omission or implying certain things were still lies in a way.

Calypso was a judgemental person, she knew it, and she accepted it.

She supposed it could be redeeming that she didn't dislike people because of their gender, race, sexuality, religion, creed or blood-status, no, Calypso didn't like people because they were people and she didn't like them because they were often loud, nosy and she didn't understand them—part of her couldn't understand them—and she felt uncomfortable when people—strangers and sometimes even friends and family, people that were safe—were too close to her.

That probably meant there was something wrong with her, Calypso was aware of that, but she didn't know what and she wasn't sure if she wanted to find out.

She was already messed up enough in her opinion that she didn't need to add another thing to her list of why Calypso Tonks was a messed up person and should probably to see some sort of therapist—except she had memories of the her of before, less messed up, less amoral, less aware of her own selfishness and just how deeply wrong she probably was, seeing several therapists that ultimately couldn't do anything but talk circles around problems that had nothing to do with her own problems.

Good people didn't dislike people, Calypso had learnt through various books and tales. No, good people liked people and wanted to help them and all that stuff because they were generally heroes and Calypso didn't want to be a hero and knew she failed as a hero.

Calypso didn't like people, she didn't have an inner-drive to help people, to champion the downtrodden and abused—she was not Hermione, Hermione that had been pushed down as a muggle for the colour of her skin, for having a genius-level intelligence, for her poor social skills and now as a witch, she was pushed down for being a muggle-born, considered less because her parents were muggles, and even lesser as she was a black muggle-born and not a slightly more accepted white muggle-born, and Hermione used all that, the racism and abuse, and she used it as a strength as she grew outraged, not just on her behalf, but on the behalf of other people and beings, and she vowed to fight, to fight against the system and to change things.

Calypso Tonks had been sheltered, she had been home-schooled and she only interacted with her family.

The her of before had been bullied, because she was different, because she didn't fit in, because she was stupid—dyslexic really, but she hadn't known that until school was over and she had considered herself stupid for over a decade, something that wasn't easy to dismiss with the knowledge it hadn't been her fault, that she wasn't stupid for not understanding things the other children could—because her father was gay, because she was at times wilfully ignorant, because she didn't understand the people around her and messed up socially.

That should have made her more aware of bullying, but Calypso had been ashamed to realise when she had time to sit down and review the memories of the girl before, when she wanted to distance herself from the memories of blood and life leaving the eyes of Kris' transfigured animals, that she had involved herself in bullying and being a bully herself for brief periods of time.

Calypso had sworn, still young and yet sometimes feeling so old, that she would never bully anyone again, it didn't however ignite a fire to stamp out all bullying or build a cause that prompted bullying-awareness because, frankly, she was too damn selfish to really care about someone else, some stranger's woes, and that showed more than anything she wasn't a good person.

She was going to fight in a war, not because she was a good person or that she wanted to save the innocent nor was it because it was the right thing to do or in attempt to capture some misguided glory.

No, Calypso was going to fight in a war—a war she was learning to maim and kill people for—because she wanted to protect her family, protect her friends. A war she helped start to protect them, it may be a misguided thought and reason, but she supposed it was a better reason for a war than some reasons wars had been started.

Because she believed it was better the war they knew and prepared for than the war thrust upon them and in the hands of a short-sighted pacifist that was trying to redeem the unredeemable and atone for past sins.

Calypso was not a good person, she knew that, she accepted that, and maybe one day she could be a good person, perhaps one day she could find a cause to fight for that wasn't her family, but that wasn't today, wasn't here and now.

No, here and now, Calypso had to deal with her studies, ignore the soul-sucking demons hovering around her school, trust in her fool of a cousin not to be arrested—again—deal with Hermione harping on about Lupin—and how she had to admit she liked him at least as a teacher, Calypso had to admit nothing—keep up-to-date with the war-effort that her relatives were dealing with, and the affection that the Weasley twins decided to shower her in for some reason that still boggled her mind—why? Just why?

Maybe after the war she would have time to grow as a person, hopefully, maybe.

* * *

"What's wrong with you?" Calypso asked as Harry sat down beside her with an odd look on his face.

"I think Snape just poisoned Lupin," Harry told her, an odd tone to his voice. "I also think he let him."

"That reeks of a guilty conscious then," Calypso didn't look up from her book. "Why do you think Snape is poisoning Lupin?"

"He just handed him a smoking goblet and he just took it without question," Harry answered in a baffled tone.

"Snape is a Potions' Master," Calypso informed him, "any potions that Lupins needs would be made by Snape, Professor Snape has too much respect in his own abilities to intentionally botch a potion just to kill someone and he is a Slytherin, he's not stupid enough to kill people by poison when people would obviously expect it from him."

"That sounds like you put thought into that," Harry mused almost thoughtfully.

"Always expect the worse from the people around you," Calypso glanced up at him, "that way they pleasantly surprise you when they don't live down to those expectations and don't surprise you when they do."

"You're such a ball of sunshine," Harry teased, and Calypso snorted.

"If you wanted a ball of sunshine, you would have found Luna," Calypso shut her book and looked up at him. "If you wanted someone to agree Snape is evil and is obviously poisoning Lupin, then you would have waited for Ron. Instead, you came for me, why?"

"Maybe because I wanted to see you?" Harry joked and sighed under Calypso's raised eyebrows. "Because you have actual reasons behind yours points without it boiling down to Snape wouldn't do that because he's a teacher."

"I'm your replacement Hermione," Calypso deadpanned as she stared at him. "I am not amused."

"It's not like that," he protested before wilting under Calypso's unimpressed look. "Okay, so maybe it is like that, but I didn't mean it like that."

"Huh," she sighed, "I suppose I shouldn't expect much considering you are a boy."

"Hey," he objected, feeling insulted.

"There, there," she patted his hand, "it's not your fault that you are a boy."

"You're messing with me, aren't you?" he asked flatly, and Calypso smirked at him.

"Yeah," she shrugged, "but you just used me as a replacement for your best friend, I think I'm allowed mess with you in return. Just so you know? Girls don't like to be used as replacements for other girls? It upsets them and hurts their feelings, keep that in mind."

"Why does it feel like you are lecturing me?" Harry asked.

"Because I am," Calypso informed him bluntly. "You are about the age when you start noticing others—be they boys or girls—and I thought I would be a thoughtful friend in giving you free advice when it came to girls."

"How did we go from Snape poisoning Lupin to this?" Harry found himself asking the world at large.

"Because you hurt my feelings by using me as a replacement as Hermione," she told bluntly, before standing up and leaving him alone, if only for a moment.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Fred sighed as he and George flanked him, not surprising him because they always seemed to be stalking Calypso in their free time—if only so they could regale her with sweet nothings and horrible poetry that made Calypso threaten to hex her ears off just to get away from. "That is no way to woo a girl."

"You're lucky she didn't slap you," George shook his head. "That gives you another chance."

"Another chance? Wooing a girl?" Harry looked up at them in confusion, "it's Calypso, why are you acting like I want to go out with her?"

Fred and George share a look before looking down at him in pity.

"You don't know yet, do you?" George asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It hasn't clicked, has it, mate?" Fred shook his head. "I suppose it's not that obvious."

"Nope, brother, it kind of is," George disagreed. "There is a reason none of the girls are doing more than looking at dear Harrykins here."

"True enough, brother, true enough," Fred agreed.

"What are you on about?" Harry finally burst out making the twins sigh and look at him in even more pity.

"You'll see when you are older," Fred finally told him, patting him firmly on the shoulder.

"We'll laugh with you when you figure it out," George promised him.

"Or at you, either way," Fred shrugged without a care.

"Thanks, Fred," Harry sighed, "thanks a lot."

* * *

 **AN: Yeah, so here is another shortest chapter that I hope you enjoy. Please read and review, your thoughts are always welcome.**


	30. Chapter 30

Calypso had never really cared much about Halloween as she didn't have a particularly strong sweet tooth—to both Aunt Gloria's and Junior's disappointment—and last Halloween had soured whatever fond feelings she had towards it—a warning glistening on the hallway wall, Mrs Norris stiff and hanging from one of the torches flashed across her mind—and Harry had ruined even her more mild mood when it came to the Feast.

He had used her as a replacement, treated her as she was a better version of Hermione just because Calypso didn't automatically trust or respect adults, and Calypso wasn't happy. She was her own person, she was not a replacement of anybody and refused to be seen as one, by anyone.

Her place had been made for her, carved out for her, she did not replace anyone, and she would not be used as a replacement. She was not Hermione, she was not Ginny, and she was not Luna, she was Calypso Tonks and she was damn happy about it.

A forkful of chocolate fudge cake was waved in front of her face and broke her from her thoughts.

"A forkful of chocolate helps keep the Wrackspurts away," Luna sung as she directed the fork towards Calypso's mouth.

Her lips twitched before she opened her mouth, trying not to laugh when Luna made a train-noise as the fork was placed gently in her mouth.

Luna beamed at her as Calypso pressed a hand against her mouth and tried not to choke on chocolate cake and laughter.

"You're impossible," Calypso finally said fondly after she swallowed, a smile spread across her lips.

"Thank you," Luna told her happily as she handed the fork back to Calypso, "so are you."

Calypso laughed, mood greatly improved, and ignorant of the fact that Harry was watching her across the Hall.

* * *

' _So-chan,_

 _Remember that foolish dog you wanted me to find? Well, I found him. Lucky, I did as he was about do get into trouble, such a naughty pup. The family is looking after him, he wasn't in a good state when I found him, but Victoria-ba-chan is confident he'll make a recovery—he'll need several baths though as he stinks._

 _Don't worry, we'll take good care of him._

 _Love, Akira '_

* * *

"Calypso?" Harry called out, jogging up as Calypso stopped in the corridor and turned to him with eyebrows raised. "Hey,"

"Hey," Calypso replied, voice flat in a way that made him cringe.

"So, I messed up," he admitted.

"Yes, you did," she informed him bluntly, watching him evenly.

"I didn't mean to, but I still upset you," Harry said because he didn't believe he had actually hurt Calypso, upset her? Yes, hurt her? No, Calypso had too a thick of skin to be hurt by his thoughtless words and actions. "I'm sorry."

"I know," she told him, "and I forgive you, but I will not be so nice if you ever do that again."

"I won't," he promised her before finally asking what he had wondered for a while. "Why are you so nice to me?"

"Are you saying I'm not a nice person?" she questioned back.

"Well," he hesitated under her narrow eyes. "Not really? Not like you are with me anyway."

"Are you saying I shouldn't be nice to you?" she asked, a blush rising on her pale cheeks.

"No, I just wondered why," he shrugged awkwardly, feeling like he was making another blunder and yet unable to stop himself. "It's kind of weird that you are only nice to me."

Calypso scowled at him, cheeks still red.

"Weird, is it?" she asked tightly, "well, don't worry, I won't make that mistake again Harry Potter."

"Wait, I didn't mean it like that!" he told her a bit frantically.

"How else could you mean it?" she demeaned. "You think it's weird I'm nice to you, so I'll stop being nice to you if that's what you want!"

"No, that's not it," he protested, "I just wanted to know why you are nice to me more than anyone else."

"You are such an idiot," she told him, a heavy blush and scowl on her face, before turning sharply on her heel and speed walking away.

"Calypso!" he called out, almost tempted to chase after her, but he was certain that she would hex him in that very moment and he had seen her hex the twins—unlike them, Harry actually wanted to survive the year.

"She's right you know," a familiar and much unwanted voice told him as two familiar arms wrapped around his shoulders and back. "You are a bit of an idiot."

"A bit, brother? More than a bit," a similar voice sniggered.

"George, Fred," Harry sighed.

"He can't help being blind, Gred," George argued, ignoring Harry for the moment.

"There's blind and then there is _blind_ ," Fred replied, "and Harrykins is very much the latter."

"Perhaps, Forge, perhaps," George said thoughtfully. "But he's still young, there's a chance he'll get a clue."

"A clue about what?" Harry questioned, but was ignored.

"Maybe, if he doesn't keep upsetting her," Fred said doubtfully. "I don't think even Ron's this bad."

"Bad about what?" Harry questioned, and again he was ignored.

"Ron's thick," George informed his twin, "Harry's just blind to what's right in front of him."

"Will you stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Harry was once again ignored.

"I don't know how," Fred shook his head, "I think even Ron has some sort of idea of what's going on."

"I wouldn't go that far," George argued. "Ron can't see much beyond Hermione, their fights, Harrykins, food and how Slytherins are awful."

"True," Fred nodded. "But mostly Hermione."

"Will you tell me what you are talking about?" Harry almost shouted and two pairs of brown eyes blinked down at him.

"We could," George said thoughtfully.

"But it's unlikely to get through your rather thick skull," Fred actually knocked on his head making Harry scowl up at him.

"And it's funnier this way," George added, "if a bit sad."

"Oh well, gives us more chance to woo our thorny rose," Fred smirked, and George smirked back.

"Good luck, Harry." George told him brightly.

"Can't wait to see how you drag yourself out of this hole," Fred almost cackled before the twins left him alone in the corridor.

"You two are the worse," he called to their retreating backs making them laugh.

* * *

"Miss Tonks," Professor Snape called over the clatter of his second-year class—Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, a blessed change from his third-year class of Gryffindor and Slytherin as the Lions didn't automatically hate the Eagles and the Eagles didn't bother to subtly sabotage the Lions' potions in revenge for some slight or grudge. "Stay behind for a moment."

Severus Snape still didn't know what possessed Dumbledore to almost continually pair up the Snakes and the Lions together for the most dangerous class amongst the core-subjects—potions were hard enough for the dunderheads to learn without adding in House rivalry—and was just thankful that he had been able to argue for the Houses to be assigned together differently for each year.

Unfortunately, that victory hadn't helped when it came to Potter, no, he just had to arrive the year that Dumbledore paired Gryffindor and Slytherin together, forcing Snape to deal with Longbottom's incompetence, Potter's bullheadedness, Granger's overwhelming need to show off and Malfoy's pettiness with dashes of the youngest male Weasley's temper to liven it all up.

Those lessons remained Severus why he had never and would never like children.

His second-year class of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor was mostly calm, beside the almost expected displays of incompetence and ruined potions. The female Weasley kept her temper, Creevey was his normal amount of annoyance and enthusiasm that gave Severus a head-ache, Lovegood kept a careful eye on her potions despite her unique personality and Tonks the younger actually had a respectable tongue in her mouth, asked intelligent questions if needed and was a more than adequate brewer unlike her sister that had just scrapped by.

Tonks the younger also seemed to have an actual brain in her head and good instincts with her instant and on-going dislike of Lupin. Unlike with Lockhart last year—what a waste of space and magic he had been—there was no reason in the eyes of the other Professors' and students' eyes for her to dislike the new and quickly beloved Defence Professor.

Severus, however, had several reasons to dislike—hate—Lupin and to distrust him, and only one of them was because of Lupin's affliction.

Remus Lupin had and would always be a coward when it counted, Severus knew as he had witnessed it first-hand. Oh, he would fight the good fight and do what was needed, but when it came to his friends? He closed his eyes and shut his ears to their crimes and sins, turning his face away from those that had suffered under the so-called righteous hand of the Marauders and had turned towards him for help, for him to reason against the casual cruelty that Black and Potter had dealt out with the insufferably encouragement of Pettigrew.

"Professor?" Tonks called, hair braided back sensibly and her natural dark shade that marked her as a scion of House Black, none of the bright and sometimes head-ache inducing colours that her elder sister was fond of, and broke him from his thoughts of years gone by. "Was there something wrong with my essay or potion?"

Her eyebrows furrowed together as she no doubt attempted to figure out what could possibly be wrong with her recent work.

"Your work, as always, is adequate," Snape informed her, pleased when she smiled in slight pride and nodded without huffing that she was more than adequate like certain students would—Tonks at least understood that high praise would never pass his lips and actual praise was rare, she knew to take his words as they were meant. "I have noticed you don't seem to be as enamoured with Lupin."

"I don't like him," she scowled, setting her chin stubbornly and refusing to take back the blunt statement she had given him.

He almost wanted to smile, her blunt honesty may sometimes annoy him as a Slytherin, but it was also something that had been entraining last year and was something to be admired.

"Good," he nodded, "it seems I'm not as surrounded by dunderheads as I thought, keep a wary eye on Lupin, Miss Tonks. He is not someone I would trust to be close to me."

Her dark eyes—with none of the insanity of her aunt, thankfully—gleamed with intelligence as she inwardly chewed over his words.

"You may also want to review your knowledge of Chapter Nine of your Defence book, it would be most helpful," Severus informed her making her dark eyes narrow slightly. "Dismissed."

Tonks nodded, adjusted her bag strap over her shoulder and left on swift feet.

Dumbledore may have banned him from actively telling the students of the monster in their halls, but that didn't stop him from prompting certain students to work it out themselves.

* * *

 **AN: Again, another short chapter, as you can probably tell I'm struggling with this fic more than I've struggled in my other fics I believe. Curse you writer's block! And ill health and wandering mind with other ideas.**

 **I still hope you like this chapter, please read and review.**


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